Grains of Sand
by runninequalslife
Summary: The love they shared that summer was unforgettable, until he was stripped of his memory. Three years later, Gabriella Montez finds herself fighting to bring back the Troy Bolton she thought she had lost forever.
1. Hippocampus

**Title: **Grains of Sand

**Rating: **M for mature themes, substance abuse, course language and sexual descriptions.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters, names, places, anything from High School Musical or Disney. This story is copyright to the owner and may not be used without permission. I in no way affiliated with any of the High School Musical Cast, Disney, Kenny Ortega or Peter Barsocchini. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary: **The love they shared that summer was unforgettable, until he was stripped of his memory. Three years later, Gabriella Montez finds herself fighting to bring back the Troy Bolton she thought she lost forever.

**A/N: I just came off a story that was fairly intense and took a lot out of me to write. It was going to be my last before I went on hiatus, but with the epicness that is summer, I couldn't let this one go. So this story is going to come pretty quickly - if you can't keep up, don't worry about it. The first story I ever wrote was 41 chapters and I wrote it in a little over two months. I'm about three quarters of the way through writing this story, and I'm anticipating it being about twelve chapter (if you've read me before, you KNOW that this is short) and I have 27 days to post it all. Come fall, I'm starting a clean page in real life that may restrict me from posting, so I wanted to get one more out before I go on hiatus until things slow down. This is a lot lighter than my last story, though if you're new to my work, you should know that I'm not a fluffy writer. I like drama and feuds, it's just how I am.  
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**That being said, those of you who are new to my work, take notice. I write my characters through my own experiences and the way _I _know how people this age behave, not Disney's version. Therefore: I tend to write about alcohol (a lot), having sex, and one of my favorite words in the English language is "fuck". If you're not comfortable with this, don't sweat it. But you've been warned. And lastly, I know I'm going to lose some readers because I wrote this story in first person tense, but it was something I really needed to try and I think it really brings more personality into my writing, which you don't see very much from me. I hope you like it anyways.  
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**It's funny how the nerves never really disappear. Thank you so much for your support. Let me know your thoughts, and thank you for trusting me. Hopefully I won't disappoint.  


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"A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness."

~Albert Hubbard~

* * *

"Oh shit."

I lifted my head from the glow of my cell phone and furrowed my eyebrows towards the driver's seat beside me, "What's wrong?"

"I forgot to bring tampons."

Even though I felt like regurgitating on the dashboard, my mouth flicked into a smile. Taylor McKessie fell into the norm: most people take memory for granted.

For such an incredible gift, it is abused more often than not. The mind's ability to store information in the hippocampus is so incredibly fascinating – or so my psychology class last semester taught me. Yet people are too wrapped up in their petty lives to truly appreciate it. Forgetting events or tasks can be simply harmless – misplace of my shoe in the closet or failing to set an alarm in the morning. These can be easily rectified with a few wasted minutes with my purple and gold flip flops flying every which way or bypassing the staple morning coffee in order to make it to Fagan's class on time. No one is hurt; no hearts are shattered.

The not so innocent experiences of a lost memory, however, could be catastrophic. There are situations of douche bag husbands and wives who have completely forgotten – or quite possibly ignored – the vows they have taken with two bands of commitment long before and tested alluring waters. Even more dangerous yet, the easy task of switching the lock my dorm room could have had dire consequences if not preformed. The last thing I needed was some psycho with a knife and a butt plug creeping around while I'm changing bras. Obviously, I'd rather remember this than whether or not my ballet flats are beneath my favorite Standford sweatshirt.

Although my friend's comment would be rather tragic had I been in her shoes, I didn't really put the forgotten tampons in the catastrophic category. Instead, I tensely glanced out the window to be greeted with the luscious evergreens and emerald trees that encaged us within the winding road.

"We could stop at the store, if you wanted." I suggested, trying to control the bounces in my knees that were obnoxiously whacking against the glove compartment. My acting skills had never been good – the driver simply rolled her eyes.

"Gabriella Montez," she punctuated my name like my mother, making me frown and gave me the temptation to pout, "you're doing it again."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I responded, never turning away from the window. This, of course, was bullshit. I knew exactly what she was talking about but I was just too proud to admit my bones were rattling and I was about thirty seconds from ordering her to pull over to the side of the road so I could throw up whatever was left of my peanut butter sandwich in my stomach.

"Yes, you do," Taylor snapped back, her short bob wagging back and forth, "This is going to happen whether we have to drag you in there or not."

I grounded my teeth together, "I could call the police on you for kidnapping."

"We'd deal with it."

I wasn't one of those people who had photographic memories – it would have saved me hours with my nose dug in the medical books this past year. But I was sort of hoping that I could somehow recall some epic movie about how to jump out of a black SUV that snaked through the Colorado woods and escape the evil serial killer that wanted to eat your liver for breakfast. Of course, I'd hardly consider my best girl friend since high school a murderer, but I still had the twisting sense of doom that coiled through my stomach and stretched across the entire surface of my body, burning away the tanned flesh.

Taylor kept sending me weird looks. Her fingers, the same shade as chocolate milk, tapped against the steering wheel with her already enlarged lip jutted out. Had the muscles on her arms not been toned – which was surprising given she chose to exercise her brain instead of her figure – I really would have considered playing Mission Impossible: Escape the SUV. But instead, I glanced down at the pathetic sticks of my arms beneath the flowy black tank top I wore and cursed myself for being involved in a sport that only toned my legs. At least I'd be able to run away from her before she'd tackle me.

It wasn't that I _didn't _want to spend two weeks in a cabin with my friends in the woods. Honestly, name one college student going into sophomore year that would turn down an opportunity to escape the prison of her parent's house during the long summer months to drink and hang out by a lake - I would be impressed if there was one. And these weren't just any friends either; they were my high school friends. But not the ones that you'd pretend like you'd call even though you really didn't care if they ended up flipping burgers at McDonalds for the rest of their lives. These were my close friends, the ones that I called when I hyperventilated over an anatomy exam or wasted hours talking on Facebook chat to instead of writing that stupid white blood cell essay I got a B on.

However, I knew this trip was going to either end up in my self-mutilation or a heart failure – since mine was already shattered.

My cell phone buzzed: an indication that I had a text message. After calming my stomach, I glanced down at the glowing screen that was even more illuminated due to the setting sun over the treetops.

"Chad said the guys have been there for an hour and we should hurry our asses up." I repeated the message from the other group that would be staying with us.

I saw Taylor tense ever so slightly when I mentioned her ex boyfriend's name, but she quickly tried to hide it from me. Typical Taylor, "We'll be there soon."

This reassurance didn't reassure me. It only made me squirm even more.

I suddenly decided that it was too hot. Even in the bluffs of Colorado, July was July. I pushed down my window and let the thin air roar through the car. It felt good, cooling the trickles of sweat that were racing over my black hairline and calmed my nerves ever so slightly.

"Ugh… could you roll that back up? You're fucking up my hair."

So much for relaxation.

There was, of course, one addition to the group that I was not so happy about. My nose crinkled as though I had smelled something foul when I turned around to see the blonde in the back seat. Her hair hung in straight strands that looked too big for her skin and bones. With a pink halter bedazzled with sequence, her perfectly polished fingernails clutched her expensive phone and her Louis Vuittons spiked towards the grey leather on the seat, strapped to her feet. Behind her sunglasses, sparkled with diamonds I was certain were real, I knew there were light brown eyes that deceived in their beauty.

I fought the temptation to spit on her precious shoes and instead sent her a sarcastic smile that made me look like a mutated clown, "Sure Sharpay, anything for you." The venom dripped from my lips.

I don't even know how Sharpay got invited onto this trip. None of us talked to her in high school – she kept to her obnoxious drama friends and was dubbed the name Ice Princess due to her ultimate goal in life to make us all bow at her feet. No one liked her, but they respected her to be sure that they wouldn't end up with a rumor started about how they had gotten gonorrhea and herpes from two different people. She and I didn't get along – I made the mistake of accidently spilling my best friend's chili fries on her outfit the first day of freshman year and therefore instigated her hatred towards me. Not that I cared, of course, but it did get sort of annoying when she tried to trip me at graduation.

"Blame Chad." Taylor murmured out of the side of her mouth – she was just as thrilled as I was to be blessed with Barbie bitch's presence, "Apparently they partied at U of A together and he said she was a good time."

"A hooker is a good time for him too." I pointed out; ignoring the glare she gave me. I glanced backwards again and frowned, "I don't like it."

"Well I don't like you either, so deal with it." Sharpay sung with a lower of her sunglasses and then dropped her head down to her phone again.

I had a feeling Taylor would get angry if I murdered the girl in the backseat, since she was just borrowing the car from her parents – the wonderful life of a cheap college student at its best.

Sighing, I slouched in my seat once again and allowed my mind to detach itself away from my body. If I stopped thinking about the onset of what would occur in less than fifteen minutes, then maybe my palms would stop sweating and I'd actually be breathing like a person instead of a hyena. Of course, my daydreams only led me to fireflies flashing beneath the twinkling stars in abandon fields and ice cream that had already been licked – the memories I _wanted _to relive, but didn't have the strength to. By the time Taylor flicked on the turn signal that would lead us away from the other summer homes, my knees were wobbling so furiously I thought the airbag would pop.

Chad's cabin wasn't one of those creepy away-from-nowhere kind of locations that just asked for killers to slice your throats. Instead, it was just off the main road that also had other summer homes hidden beneath the trees. There was a tiny store about seven miles around the lake if we needed extra sunblock or Smirnoff, so I wasn't too concerned that we would be eaten alive by a psycho a la Silence of the Lambs. However, when we finally pulled up to the deep wood of the cabin, I couldn't help but feel the lurch in my stomach as though something vile would creep from it.

My first response when the truck crackled to a stop against the stoned driveway was to flip down the visor and immediately check my appearance after the day long drive. Taylor did the same, though she tried to make it more nonchalant. I didn't care. There were bigger things to worry about than if Sharpay thought I was a spaz – whether or not each individual black curl coiled down my back was much more important. So was making sure the smudge of makeup beneath my left eye was wiped away and my tanktop left enough cleavage to make an impression, but not a negative one.

"Gabs, come on. We should get moving." Taylor nodded her head; as though she had not been doing the exact same thing that I had been a few seconds ago. Barbie's complaints of the mud five feet away interrupted my scrutiny. That constant pang in my stomach pulsated again.

"Tay-" I whispered, my voice quivering, "I can't do this."

She stared at me for a long moment, sympathy glossing in her dark eyes. It made me both uncomfortable and irritated, for no matter how hard she tried, she would never understand what I was going through.

"It's gonna be fine, alright? You're going to have a fun time with your friends for two weeks."

I sighed and turned back towards the passenger window, watching as Sharpay's face turned the color of her shirt as she shouted for us to get our asses moving since she was already starting to feel dirty. My gaze, however, saw past her. Past the luscious green trees and wooded barks that held them in place. Instead I saw nights wrapped tightly in blankets – grasps to create heat even on the warmest of nights. And then, as quickly as it was recollected, it was gone and I was left to stare at Sharpay's impatient tapping of her expensive heels.

I hoped she'd break her ankle.

"Come on," Taylor rubbed my shoulder encouragingly, "we've got stuff to unpack."

Fumbling to put my aviator's on – okay, so I stole them from my best friend when I was fifteen so they weren't mine necessarily- took longer than I anticipated, since my hands were trembling ever so. Finally, I gathered the strength to open the door and press my gladiators against the gravel, jumping from the car.

Immediately, I was greeted with the warm air that swirled around in the dust of the truck. I could now tell why Sharpay's panties were in a bundle – it felt as though the sweat would never evaporate from my body. However, unlike drama queen, I simply straightened the white denim of my shorts and proceeded to make my way to where Taylor was opening the hatch.

"Gabs!"

Or not.

I spun around just in time to watch a dark figure bolt from the porch of the cabin, leaving the front door to swing open in its wake. The crunch of stone against his sneakers was an overwhelming sensation and I had little time to think before I was suddenly spinning in the air, my weight being held by built muscles. The natural stank of sweat and thick scent of his cologne immediately made me smile – I didn't need to feel the tight ringlets beneath my fingers or the sturdiness of his jaw to know it was one of my two absolute best friends in high school. But even so, he set me down and my hands remained around his neck when he pressed a tight kiss to my forehead.

"'Bout fucking time you show up." Chad teased when he pulled me into a one armed hug, ruffling the twirls I worked so hard to perfect.

"Chad!" I whined and attempted to elbow him in the stomach, until I realized I was completely weak compared to the enormous build he had earned during the training season his freshman year. Of course, I had seen his newly sculpted body already, but it never failed to shock me, "Don't!"

Rolling his eyes, such a dark brown they appeared black, he tapped the bottom of my chin and nudged my hip, "That's what you get for making us wait. Payback's a bitch."

He kissed my temple again and rubbed the surface of my arm. It was then that I suddenly remembered one of my other travel mates and saw Taylor eying us longingly, though not jealously. This made me frown. I obviously didn't want to upset my closest girl friend, but the bond that Chad and I had was unbreakable, unable to be replicated by any other outside force, especially a significant other. He must have noticed as well, for his gaze tightened as it landed on Taylor's struggles as she tried to hall the obnoxiously large magenta suitcase from the trunk. Not letting go, Chad ushered me towards the other two girls and smiled brightly at the one with her arms locked together.

He quirked a black eyebrow and caught a glance at me, "Sharpay, You're… here-" Apparently he was just as surprised she showed up as we were.

For a moment, I thought she was going to growl at him, "You invited me, didn't you?" She snapped, her pointed nose jutted in the air with superiority.

He looked at me, as though I had the answer to save him. Irritated at his irrational decision, I put on the smuggest smirk I could muster that only earned me a step on my toe, "Yeah! I just didn't think this was your thing, yah know?"

"I was told there would be tequila."

That seemed to be a good enough answer for him.

"Awesome." Chad reached out as though she were part of his species of male therefore knowing the sacred handshake I didn't quite understand. Instead, however, Sharpay raised her razor eyebrow and her arms remained bolted to her chest. I couldn't help but laugh as his face revealed he already knew he had made a mistake by asking her to tag along. Served him right.

"Gabs?" Taylor's attempt to be subtle to get our attention was a complete failure. Immediately, I felt Chad's chest suck in a hot breath as he turned in the direction of the rear of the car. He squeezed me tighter to him, as though I had the strength to get his legs to move. He was stupid, clearly – I didn't even have the guts to go into what awaited for me inside the cabin, let alone have a few extra bars of courage for him. Regardless, he began to drag me towards the sight of Taylor continuing to yank at Sharpay's luggage. It was then that I realized there were four of these matching suitcases – two already sitting in a neat row on the ground.

"Did you just bring your closet or what?" I snapped back, glaring at Sharpay who was still typing away on her phone.

Even behind the shades of her sunglasses, I could tell she rolled her eyes, "It's the fucking middle of nowhere, I spent a hundred and twenty-seven dollars on my manicure and I'm not about to ruin it in some fucked up shack."

Chad snorted, "Should have thought about that before, sweetheart. We don't have cable in there, so we're gonna be hangin' out here."

"Ugh!" Sharpay groaned and returned to her texts.

"Umm, can someone please-" Taylor's request was lost in a series of groans and a crash.

Chad and I looked at each other before immediately sprinting to save her from being toppled on. We arrived at the same time, but Chad's reflexes were quicker and he rescued her from the crash. I watched the exchange when Chad grasped the suitcase and chuckled awkwardly. Had Taylor been a blusher of a gigglier, she would have done both. But as a studious female activist, she simply gave a loose smile and mumbled, "Thank you."

He took Sharpay's crap from her and dropped it to the gravel without much care. It was a good thing Blondie was still on her phone, for I was certain she would have flipped had she seen it. I suddenly felt like I didn't exist when they looked at each other, like they couldn't remember I was there. I knew that feeling, that sensation of the world fading and an earthquake rocking beneath your feet. It was a feeling I once loved, a feeling I would never experience again.

Shaking his head to break gaze, he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck – a habit that made the ache in my stomach burn, for I knew whom he picked it up from.

"Uh, maybe you should just let me take the rest of these. You can grab the food." Chad suggested, eying up what we brought along to devour at a later date.

This seemed to wake up Taylor from whatever fantasy or memory she was lost in. Immediately, her nose twitched and her face glowered with anger, "I'm perfectly capable of getting a suitcase, thank you very much."

Chad and I exchanged looks – there was the hard ass valedictorian we always knew.

"Okay, then." He blew out and reached for the last of Sharpay's belongings. I grabbed my high school soccer duffle from the trunk and staggered to keep my balance. Chad, however, didn't come to my rescue like he did with Taylor. He was too busy trying to avoid getting yelled at by her for carrying the bags of apples and chips. I was left to hook my pillow under my arm and attempt to walk towards the direction they were dropping the stuff to. The red and white of my bag was a contrast to the neutral hues of the others.

"We're going to have to make a couple of trips." Taylor stated, probably thinking things over in the logical side of her brain.

She hitched her bag on her shoulder higher at the same time that I reached in to grab my pillow from where it was lodged beneath the seat. By the time I turned around, Taylor and Chad were stiffly trying to collect as much as they could without looking at each other. Of course, Sharpay was no help; she simply placed the iPhone into her vise grip and pranced towards the cabin, white skirt riding up her ass with every stride.

Not long after, Chad and Taylor glanced up at me with matching, careful smiles; ones that would be certain I wouldn't fall apart at the seams. At first I was confused, but then I realized what their hidden meanings represented.

It was time.

My eyes widened and I felt a burn – an unpleasant one – race beneath my skin. Slowly, my feet began to tug me backwards, away from disaster, "Um,I- I uhh… I think I'm gonna go check out the road," I tried to make a lame excuse that didn't do any damage, for they just took a step closer, "You know, good to be safe that if there's like… a fire… or we get struck by lightning… I can calculate the time it would take…"

"Gabriella." Taylor punctuated my name, "It's time."

I shook my head in denial. No matter how many times I prepared myself for this scenario, I would never be able to be fully ready for this.

"N-n-no… no it's not… I-I need to…"

Chad walked towards the seizure I was having and dared to dodge my vibrations to slide an arm around my shoulder, crushing me to his chest. I couldn't help it – I wiggled my face into his armpit to hide from the very immediate future, "Come on, it's just him."

I swallowed, "That's why I can't do it." My voice was muffed by his green shirt.

His fingers tenderly tickled my arm, playfully trying to pull a reaction from me. I was, however, immobilized by fear and uncertainty. What I really wanted was to scream and jump into the SUV again, speeding away at a hundred miles an hour and never look back. Anything for that pesky worm that kept slapping against my stomach in painful pangs to disappear.

And yet, despite my hesitations, there was nothing more that I wanted than to rush into that cabin to see for myself.

"Come on, he's been waiting for you." Chad told me softly, making my heart skip a beat even though I knew it was a generic statement that involved the three of us – not just me.

The war between running for the hills and sprinting towards the doors left me without control of my limbs. Therefore, as Chad began to drag me towards the cabin, I had no power or strength to protest.

As I looked up, I noticed it was a pretty cabin – cozy with a sense of security and humbleness. From the shingles to the wraparound porch, everything was covered with cedar. It was fairly large with two windows that face towards us on the second story, matching the bay glass that allowed revealed the illumination of the lights that had been flicked on within. Although it was concealed by the trees, I knew the choppy lake was just a walk on the path that led down the hill. None of this mattered, of course, for the thick trees around me were disappearing with every inch that drew closer to the stairs. I gripped both Chad's waist and the strap of my duffle bag tighter when we began to ascend the steps – had I not, I would have tumbled in dizziness.

Every neuron in my brain was screaming at me to stop, to turn around and never look back. It was idiotic to continue the path I was on. The only thing that lingered would lead me to immediate heartbreak – although there wasn't left of my heart that was left to shatter.

Every cell in my body was seducing me to continue. The mystery and curiosity and excitement – they were all so very appealing. For every negative thought of why I should not enter, a counteraction of question and longing soothed the fright.

I wanted to know and I wanted to run.

The problem was I didn't know which I wanted more.

It didn't seem like I had a choice, however. Before I knew what was happening, Taylor was holding the door open for the two of us to step through the threshold. Before we could, Sharpay rudely cut in front of us with perfect poise and perfection that – had I actually been paying attention – made me want to trip her. She was lucky I couldn't feel my fingers or toes, for she would have been in for something.

None of this mattered, of course. Not when I took my first step into my home for the next two weeks.

Immediately, I knew he was there.

I couldn't see him – in fact, I was so nervous that I couldn't see much of ANYTHING other than blurs of the light hardwood flooring and the cozy feel of the darkened walls. Had there been a blinking red light that acknowledged the stairs sitting straight before me or the kitchen tucked to my immediate right, I wouldn't have noticed. The couches that faced the fireplace or each other and the large, bay windows that overlooked the vegetation outside were ignored. I knew where I was but I wasn't sure what it looked like. It was just a giant blob of brown through my eyes.

But I could _feel _him.

Not in a creepy schizophrenic kind of way that would strap me into a straightjacket. No, this was familiar, warm – intoxicating. Like all the heat of the room hovered just above my skin, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. I felt a breath ghost over every bump in my spine until it caressed the inside of my ear, coaxing me towards its owner. My eyes fluttered to a point half way between closed and opened and my curls danced lower over my back when I reveled in the sensation of what made this room suddenly so different, so holy, compared to the rest of the universe in that moment. It wasn't my imagination –this was lava flowing as steadily as molasses through every vein in my body.

It was so easy to remember the last time I felt this way, as perfectly as though it had occurred just an hour before. I could still count the milliseconds between each thump of his heart against my ear or feel the way the sheets enclosed us from the rest of the world – kept us safe. Skin on skin, hand in hand – I saw a flash of blue beneath my eyelids that could never be replicated.

"Gabs… Gabriella…"

Someone was calling my name through the rush of memories and dreams. But all I could hear was the bewitching purr of: "_Gabi… Gabi…"_

"Gabs… you need to _breathe_!"

I blinked, returning to reality once again. Chad's breath was in my ear, making sure not to draw attention but also caring for me in what he thought was my time of need. I turned and bumped my head against his chin before looking up into his black eyes.

"You alright?" He murmured softly, intimately without being romantic.

I didn't answer before sending him a wobbly smile, "You worry too much." I patted his chocolate hand that held onto my waist, keeping me from drowning.

He guided us over to where Taylor and Sharpay had now entered further into the cabin. It was then that I recognized the two boys who were chatting brightly with them. Neither made my heart skip nor made me wish for pillows to faint on. Instead, they brought a tiny curl of my lips when both the boys looked upon me.

"Hey! You made it!" The tallest grinned a blinding smile against the contrast of his skin – a shade darker than Chad's.

"Why the fuck did _they _not get lost?" The other exclaimed and shook his shaggy, black hair, "We should have driven with the chicks."

"Hey!" Both Chad and Taylor snapped at the same time. They stared awkwardly for a long moment before Taylor took a step forward and pointed her finger in a scold.

"This is _not _the fifties. I will not be called a _chick_." She hissed between ground teeth.

"And it's your own fucking fault for reading the map upside down Cross!" Chad added, making me giggle. He glared at me and elbowed me in the ribs. In response, I stepped on his toe.

"Hey, we're all here, right?" The giant, Zeke Baylor, said optimistically.

"Unfortunately." Sharpay rudely stated, still typing away on her phone and infuriating me.

The tension was growing, whether it was playful or not. Had I not been so focused on the way the hair on the back of my neck rose with every flicker of movement, I would have felt the thick air between them growing, "Awe… fuck off it Zeke… you were practically pissing in your pants when we had to turn around." Chad hissed, "Actually, Cross was the one who had to take a shit for three hours."

The one called Cross – his first name was Jason- held his hands up in defense, "I told you we shouldn't have gotten Taco Bell! You know I don't sit well with Mexican-"

"You're such a pussy-"

"Fuck off!"

"It's true!"

"Would you guys shut up? I'm getting a headache."

I was suddenly immobilized.

I knew that voice – I had _lived _for that voice.

The entire room froze, along with the rest of the world. The birds beyond the windows stopped chirping, the crickets stopped buzzing – even Sharpay stopped texting. I wanted to both scream and never say a word again, for the silence was excruciating. Had I not been petrified to stone, I would have been able to feel Chad pull me closer with protection. The pound of my heartbeat rattled against the widows when there was a shimmer of movement beyond the couch and a silhouette of something divine rose.

When Troy Bolton turned around, I was punched in the stomach with memories that had been hidden in my heart for three years.

I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, and I couldn't breathe. The men I had dated between the summer of my junior year at East High and my freshman year at Standford suddenly meant nothing – they were simply dusts in the wind. No one had made me feel the way I felt the moment Troy finally came into the light. I hadn't forgotten but had never again experienced the way lightning was electrocuting every cell in my body – until now. That hazy feeling of the world fading consumed me; Chad, Taylor, Sharpay, Zeke, Jason – none of my friends existed, nor did the cabin that surrounded us. The earth suddenly shrunk to the few feet that rotated around the three months that this man had been mine.

I watched intently as his lengthy eyelashes flew open. My hands twitched as they remembered the way the brown fibers of his hair felt as I ran them through his bangs to grip the back of his scalp. His long lips curled into a closed mouth smile, reminding me of the way his defined jaw had dropped when he had seen me in that black dress on our third official date. Beneath the navy v-neck that allowed a glint of a golden chain to shine in the light held revealing muscles that had been kissed with a bronze hue. My skin prickled when it remembered how, even though they were not quite as defined or large as they were now, they contorted around the curves and crevices of what were not quite my womanly shape I now possessed. And of course, the bright blue in his eyes yanked me back to a time when they drilled upon me, just before he kissed me with as much fire and intensity as an exploding star.

I remembered everything about Troy Bolton and the love we shared that summer.

And when his eyes lifted to stare politely at us, not even double taking in my direction, I knew he remembered nothing about me.

The worst part was that I couldn't blame him for it.

The rest were held their breath, though of course, I didn't notice. Each of my friends was glancing between him and me as though they were waiting for me to sprint from Chad's arms and throw myself at him. I had to admit, a part of me wanted to. I had an aching desire in the pit of my stomach to let him hold me and kiss the top of my head as he chuckled into my ear and tell me how much he missed me, how unbearable these last three years had been. He wouldn't, of course, but it was something to hold onto when my legs wiggled like jello and threatened to pool beneath me.

Though I should have expected it, Sharpay was the one to break the silence. For the first time since her driver dropped her off at Taylor house, she slid her phone into her pocket and perched her sunglasses into the golden shimmers of her hair.

"Well don't you look delicious?"

Troy didn't recoil, but instead crossed his arms to make his biceps appear even larger than what they really were – if that was possible.

He quirked one of his dark eyebrows in what I knew was bemusement, "Do I know you?"

Sharpay pulled out the big canons of her acting skills and forced an evil smirk to cross her face, not before licking her lips of course. I held my breath and tensed beneath Chad's grasp as she reached out and placed her pampered little fingers onto his forearm. I mentally screamed for her to back off, that his skin belonged to me – even if it didn't anymore.

"I'm Sharpay Evans," she hummed, trailing her touch up his arm until it cupped the sturdiness of his neck, "You and I used to fuck wildly every night in high schoo-"

"_Okay_!" Chad, for the first time since we entered the cabin, released me and started towards where Troy was wide-eyed and disgusted. It was lucky that I was busy fighting the green-eyed monster that suddenly wanted to spill Sharpay's blood, otherwise I would have crashed to the floor, "I'm glad you guys are reacquainted." He pushed his way between Sharpay's greedy fingers and Troy's hesitation.

Sharpay made no effort to hide her pout as she stalked away. Troy, turning towards who I knew was his best guy friend, whispered "dude?" to ask if the proclamation was true.

"No way in hell." I heard Chad mutter and patted him on the back. My heart fluttered when I saw him let out a sigh in relief.

He then, with utter perfection that made my knees weak again, turned towards the girl struggling to hold her bag. Immediately, he smiled in recognition and strode over to her, "I'm blaming you for listening to these douche bags for the past two hours bitch."

Taylor grinned and adjusted her strap cutting against her shoulder, "At least I didn't get lost." She teased before Troy's arm wrapped around her in a friendly hug – one that made the jealousy in my body bleed jade in my eyes. I had to remind myself they had "met" previously when she was dating Chad and Troy had visited the University of Albuquerque.

There was an underlying tension in the air, apart from the one that made my body rage with both fear and desire. Chad cleared his throat, which immediately made Taylor frown with disproval and Troy turn to him innocently. The air suddenly grew much thicker when Chad's afro thunder flipped around as he caught a glance at me.

"Bolton, there's someone else you need to meet." He patted him on the shoulder and then turned towards me.

Gravity suddenly disappeared the moment as Troy spun around for the very first time.

I couldn't breathe, literally. Oxygen refused to enter my lungs and I choked on my own tongue. He had looked at me so many times before that it seemed silly that he caused my toes to curl and my balance to sway. Nonetheless, my stomach shriveled and I couldn't help but lose all sense of the world around me, never leaving my spot.

For a brief moment, I thought this would be like the cheesy episode of Full House where Michelle magically regains her memory after falling off her horse, only with a romantic twist. My heart lifted and I opened my mouth, suddenly believing that this would be just like Hollywood. The boy who had amnesia suddenly gazed upon the woman of his dreams and his memories rushed back with fleeting intensity. She, or me in this case, would be the key to unlock the suppression the head injury caused, the entire childhood he had forgotten would return with the blink of an eye. He would then sprint to her and collect her in his arms, kissing her soundlessly with a twirl and a giggle. There would be a happily after and he would never forget the summer they fell in love again.

However, this was not Hollywood; my dreams and heart were crushed when Troy held out his hand for me to shake.

"Gabriella, right?" He asked with the same expression as he had before. Like he had never seen before or sung my name as he just had now.

In his eyes, he hadn't.

I wanted to kick him in the balls and hoped he never recovered. Not in an "I hate you because you're a douche bag" kind of way, but in a heartbreaking "you were in love with me until you got amnesia and this makes me feel like shit" kind of way. This pain in my chest almost hurt as sharply as the last time I had seen him – with his face bloodied and his eyes closed. At least then he hadn't been looking at me as though I was just an ordinary person, like I had never mattered.

Everyone was staring at me – I could feel it but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. The only eyes I could look into were his, even if my vocal cords had been snapped in half.

His eyebrows cocked incredulously at my silence. I wanted to say something, anything to save myself from stupidity, but words were impossible.

"I –"

"She's the one and only!"

I had never loved Chad as much as I did in that moment.

Magically, he had snapped from the trance that we were all under and strode across the hardwood to sling an arm around my shoulder, once again. Saving me from pure mortification by making me not appear like I wasn't intelligent enough to speak, he leaned forward with animation in his darkened face.

"Dude, she's like an East High legend!" Chad said frantically, though never making his acting skills lack, "She's the reason the girls won back to back state championships when she scored the winning goal in the last minute. She started a cat's tail on fire when she was twelve _and _she managed to prove Darbus wrong our freshman year by reading Shakespeare's Sparknotes. How can you _not _remember her?"

I didn't bother mentioning that Troy had already switched schools when we went to state junior and senior year. I also kept it silent that Troy had been the one to get me the cigarette lighter and held down the feline when I ignited the tail and that he had been the one to print out my Sparknotes when I slept in because I was too tired after a game the night before.

Troy glared at him without amusement. We both knew his last sentence was a terrible joke.

I wasn't a shy person – in high school I had somehow managed to be in what was considered the "popular" crowd for the reasons that a) apparently the guys thought I was semi-attractive – though I didn't see it – and that automatically meant I would blow them and b) ever since I moved to Albuquerque when I was ten, I had been best friends with the basketball superstar and the guy every girl wanted to fuck senselessly that was standing before me, unable to recognize who I was. But right now, I had nothing to say, because everything that would come out would just sound like word vomit.

Troy turned back towards me, narrowing his eyes with perplexity and confusion glassed over the surface of his eyes. His head tilted in scrutiny, as though he was trying to read my cues and figure out why this freak wouldn't say a word.

"I'm starving." Jason candidly stated, rubbing his stomach like a Buda and making everyone but Troy turn towards him. I couldn't stare at my summer love longer and forced myself to turn towards him.

"Dude, I told you to eat more of your burrito!" Chad's chest rumbled beneath my cheek.

"Maybe we should let the girls get unpacked and we can fry up the grill and start the fire?" Zeke, always the polite one, suggested with a kind smile towards me – maybe it was out of pity, I couldn't be sure these days.

"I second this!" Chimed Taylor, who appeared as though her baggage was going to cause her to topple over.

Chad chuckled and kissed my hair. I wondered if the burn of eyes drilling into my cheek was from Taylor or Troy, but I ignored them as Chad stepped away and I hugged my pillow closer to my side to keep it from falling.

"Make sure my suitcases are in order from largest to smallest in my room." Sharpay ordered and snapped towards the luggage that pooled at her feet.

The guys looked between each other and immediately burst out laughing. I couldn't help but feel the reacquainted flip of my stomach when the sweet sound of Troy's vibrations rumbled through the house. The lines around his eyes fanned out with perfection and glee. I was intoxicated.

"You're on your own, Evans. You're not in Beverly Hills anymore."

"Ugh!" She pouted and stomped towards the center of the house, her heels echoing as she went.

Chad rolled his eyes, "It's going to be a long two weeks."

I looked up to see Troy was grinning brightly, turned away from me as though I had never existed. My throat welled up staring at him, knowing that the friendship that led up to developing feelings of adoration were nothing more than the pathetic grains of sand at the bottom of an hourglass – no matter how many times I flipped it, they would never stick to the top. He didn't remember me, or the love that we shared that summer three years ago. I was no more than anyone else in this room, no more than a lost memory.

Chad was right; it was going to be a long two weeks.


	2. Midbrain

**A/N: Thank you _so _much to everyone who alerted this story and began reading. I'm really excited about this and I hope you guys are too. And for my chapter titles: I know it's lame, but I have this weird love for psychology (as some of you have probably guessed due to my previous work) and it fits with the story, so each chapter is a different part of the brain. I know, it's a lame attempt of me being creative, but if you were questioning, that's what it is. Thank you so much for reading and leaving me your thoughts, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

"Every man's memory is his private literature."

~Aldous Huxley~

* * *

With my fingertips pressed against the scalding surface of the window and my eyes gazing upon the tinder of the premature bonfire from below, I decided that I was going to avoid all contact with Troy Bolton for the rest of the trip.

"You can't just avoid him, Gabriella." Taylor played devil's advocate by reading my thoughts as she neatly folded a sweater to pile into the dresser.

I didn't turn around to look at her; I didn't want her to see the pain that glossed in my eyes – I was stronger than that, "Of course I can. He doesn't know I exist, so I don't have to."

I heard her sigh from behind me, but I didn't dare turn around from the setting sun shining through the window. Thankfully, I wasn't as neat or organized as Taylor, therefore I didn't even bother to unpack my clothes and place them into the spare drawers that had been designated to us. It would be too much energy to place them together and too much energy to repack once it was time to leave. Fourteen days weren't worth the sweat.

My heart skipped a beat when I caught the sight of the navy blue v-neck I had seen him dressed in earlier as he strutted out of the cabin with his muscular arms juggling an obviously heavy cooler and a package of what appeared like some kind of meat – hotdogs, I'd assume. His khaki shorts rode low on his hips as he walked towards the circle of chairs making a perimeter of the fire – hips that I knew possessed magical powers whilst engaging in certainly naughty activities. Ones I would most definitely never experience again.

"You can't just erase the life you had with him." Taylor reminded me, though it sounded more like a scolding mother than one of my best friends, "You were friends since what, you were thirteen?"

"Ten." I corrected without hesitation, "He had just turned eleven."

I didn't mean to sound like a stalker, but at the immaturity of an eleven year-old, he always made a point to mention how he was a year older than I for five months out of the year. We were currently nineteen – both of us, until he turned the big two-0 in October and would pull ahead in his life, yet again.

"My point exactly." I could hear the smile in her voice and I tried to contain myself from cursing at her out loud.

With one last breath and glance towards where he was jogging to reach a struggling Chad to bring wood to the pit, I finally tore away from him and took in the sight of what would be my shared room for the next two weeks. It was small, of course, but homey nonetheless. Between where Taylor stood and where I was creeping was a queen sized bed – one that Sharpay had claimed, but Taylor had barred her teeth and miraculously managed to snag. She offered the position to sleep beneath the tanned and red plaid comforter to me, but I turned it down. I would have rather slept on cockroaches than share a bed with Blondie. So I was to reside on the floor with a pile of blankets – which made my life so much better.

I sat down upon the bed that didn't belong to me and trailed my hand over the surface of the pillow, "I can't just ignore everything that happened, Tay. Not when he doesn't even know."

It would have been easy to simply tell Troy what had transpired between us in the years that we known each other. Of course, that conversation wouldn't be as easy as it seemed. My guess was that he would probably be a little creeped out if I just marched up to him beside the fire with a smile and a, "Hey Troy! You don't remember me, but before you got amnesia and moved away, you and I were best friends and then one summer we fucked each other like rabbits, but you don't remember any of this, isn't that funny?"

Not exactly how a "get to know you" conversation should go.

Taylor fished the last pair of jeans within her suitcase and looked up at me with both empathy and frustration, "Gabriella, this is Troy."

I tried not to glare with jealousy that she had been able to be in his presence before I had in her visits to U of A for the first month of college that Chad and Taylor pathetically attempted to maintain their relationship. Of course, as valedictorian of our class, Taylor was whisked off to the Ivy Leagues and attended Yale. Chad stayed in his hometown, a place that apparently Troy visited from Berkeley – which of course just happened to be less than fifty miles from Stanford, but I didn't dare make the drive. I didn't have the strength like he did.

And the guilt gnawed away at my heart every single night.

I shrugged, not able to look at her and took to staring at the deep shades of the comforter instead, "Yeah, but he's not _my _Troy. For all I know he could be a goth who studies scientology and likes to eat tofu for his meals."

Another roll of her dark eyes, "Gabriella, I get that you're not over him, but –"

"Oh, I'm over him." I lied, badly, "I'm so over him." I lied really badly.

Zipping up her suitcase, Taylor laughed as she dropped it into the closet that was completely adorned with sparkles – Sharpay had already made her mark, "Yep, so you moaning Troy's name when you orgasmed with Chris, twice, means that you're completely over the guy."

I felt the rosy heat that was a blush flood my cheeks. In my defense, it was a night after our exams and my then boyfriend, Chris, and I decided to get completely hammered to celebrate. Of course, with my roommate deciding to take shots in public that night, one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was screaming my summer love's name instead of my boyfriend's. In revenge, I found out a month ago he had cheated on me in our seven month relationship. The irony of the situation? He boned another girl, twice.

"Well that's just all sorts of embarrassing."

My heart jumpstarted when the third party suddenly entered the tiny bedroom. From my fingers to my toes, every vein mapped out in the plain of my body turned to ice. I suddenly wished that Troy's curse would be transferred to the pampered princess who swayed into the room with her pleather skirt riding high on her thighs and her yellow hair primped and perfect. She smirked evilly at me – plots and cruelties were already forming in her scheming mind.

"Sharpay… it's not what you-"

Rolling her eyes, Sharpay waved her manicure in dismissal, "Please, Montez. Everyone knows you played with more than Troy boy's basketballs before he escaped East High."

I felt the undeniable urge to rip her straight strands out when she drew a sickening smile over her high cheekbones – Troy obviously hadn't left by choice. It wasn't like she had ever been in a coma for a month before.

Rage began to boil beneath my skin. No one wanted this girl to be taking a vacation with us, so she had no reason or right to be standing before me with a threatening demeanor and her heels tapping obnoxiously against the hardwood.

"I swear to God Sharpay," I hissed with both my heart and my fists clenching, "If you say _anything_ to-"

"Oh calm down. I'm not gonna tell him your precious secret."

A part of me sighed with relief, but I didn't dare let my guard down. My eyebrow flew to the tip of my forehead skeptically. I didn't trust her as far as I could throw her stupid heels.

"What?"

Sharpay leaned forward, with her nose pointing out obnoxiously. It was lucky that she was so skinny and her boobs were so tiny, for I got a full on cleavage shot from beneath her glittering top.

"It's much more fun to watch you look like a babbling idiot in front of him. Kinda pathetic that you can't even talk to him." Her glossed lips curled up mockingly and her fingertips tapped against her hip.

Had I been unstable, I would have killed her. The idiotic smugness that radiated from her body was enough that made me grip the edges of the comforter to keep from jumping up and tackling her. I could feel the burn of Taylor's eyes against my face, watching to be sure that I wouldn't end up in jail within the next few minutes. Thankfully, the animalistic hiss that simmered from my throat slowly began to wane when I forced myself to remember I had been the one that Troy had chosen three years before and that Sharpay was just a bitchy drama queen. I could handle this; I was stronger than her – Troy's accident made me thick skinned.

"At least he didn't reject me." I snapped back, referencing Sharpay's come on when we first walked into the cabin.

Again, Sharpay's light orbs swiveled, "Please Montez, I don't want Troy Bolton," even though the fuming monster inside me didn't quite disappear, I saw a twinkle of truth in her irises, "He's not my type."

My eyebrows shot upwards. Perfect wasn't her type?

"Chad on the other hand? I heard he's a good lay."

She should have thanked her lucky stars that she chose that moment to swing her hips towards the door once again in a dramatic exit. Taylor immediately bared her teeth in a way that I had never seen, nor never wanted to see again. For a brief moment, I thought she was going to turn into Catwoman on steroids and lash out her anger. Thankfully though, before she could fully get a surge of hatred, she seemed to remember her mature demeanor and simply sent death daggers in her direction.

"Tay, you guys are over, remember?" I tried to remind her gently, though was cautious when I rose from my spot on the bed.

Taylor shook her short bob and nodded, "You're right, you're right. It was months ago, it's time to move on."

I bit my lip and didn't dare turn back towards the window, listening to the words echo viciously through my head.

_It's time to move on_.

* * *

"Jase… Jase, you really don't want to do this-"

"Shut the fuck up, Montez, or you're gonna get it."

I knew he wasn't fibbing either – not by the way his black eyes shimmered the reflection of the inferno from just a few feet away and the threatening position of his arm slung back with the nozzle of the ketchup bottle facing me.

"Awe, knock it off Cross!" I could hear the kind voice of Zeke Baylor both laughing and attempting to calm the boy before me, "What'd the girl ever do to you?"

Snickering, I tried not to direct my attention to the hotdog that was now buried in the depths of the woodchips scattered around the table that held the food Jason and I were currently picking through, "Yeah Jase, what'd I ever do to you?"

"You fucking dropped my weiner."

The entire circle of friends immediately burst in hysterics – even Taylor let out a couple breaths of amusement. I tried to maintain my pokerface as I inched backwards, wincing when a stick cracked beneath my gladiators. The black tanktop had been strategically chosen that morning to highlight the curves of my hips and chest – even if I had a zip up sweatshirt covering my bare arms, it was one of my favorites I would rather not have destroyed because I accidently knocked a tipsy Jason Cross's plate and caused his dinner to tumble to the leaves below.

"It was too small for her to grip."Chad chimed and I could see his silhouette open his mouth wide to consume his burger in one bite.

Unfortunately, the meat never made it into his mouth. Unexpectedly, Jason whirled around and squirted ketchup into the depths of his afro.

"You fuckface!" Chad roared, making me jump towards the open air while Jason sprinted gleefully away. Never to let one get away with anything, Chad immediately snatched the mustard from the counter and chased after him, disappearing into the night.

Those huddled around the fire were now doubled over without oxygen. In my blackened corner, I forced myself to grip the edge of the picnic table to keep from crashing to the brush. The edges of my stomach burned and the air was drunk with liquor and laughter. I was far from hammered, or even tipsy for that matter. With the underlying tension that rushed over my skin, I knew that losing my inhibitions with the guy I was forcing myself not to look towards would have been deadly. I didn't trust myself with Troy close enough to taste, not when Operation: Pretend Troy Bolton Doesn't Exist was in full swing.

I hadn't looked at him since I descended from the house an hour ago with Taylor on my shoulder. The avoidance was much more difficult than I intended; a few times I had to snap my eyes to a close to keep from making contact with him. Of course, I was being unusually immature and petty, but if it would keep my heart from snapping in half once again, it was a necessary precaution.

"I hope they know they're not getting very far." Taylor commented and I could see her pull her knees to her chest, taking a long sip of the bottled water she was nursing. I smiled – apparently both of us had the same mindset about the vulnerability under the influence. Then again, had I been paying attention, I would have known that Zeke and Troy were pacing themselves through beers as well. No one seemed to be in the mood to throw up that night, not when we had all spent the entire day driving.

"What do you mean?" Zeke asked inquisitively, pushing around the sliced Italian on his plate. I could see the scrunch of his nose in disgust. Between his business major and intramural basketball team, Zeke's hobby was baking – a talent he had picked up when Jason had convinced him to take home ec because all of the cheerleaders took it as well junior year. His chocolate chip cookies were a snack food I had missed when I was at Stanford. I was thankful a bucket filled with baked goods was resting at the edge of the table.

Though the back of her head was facing me, I could practically see Sharpay's eyes roll behind the illumination of her cell phone, "Ugh, are you fucking stupid? There's a hill that leads to the fucking lake. Even I know that."

Zeke's eyes flew upwards and he fought more laughter when he saw me stick my tongue out in mockery. Again, I ignored the burn of another set of eyes do the same thing.

Deciding the little pile of barbequed food was enough for the first night, I juggled my plate and the lemonade and stepped into the tangerine lighting that flickered off everyone's faces. Their skin appeared paled beneath the heat as I settled between where Jason had been occupying and where Zeke harbored.

It was then that I realized my mistake; I was in a direct line of vision of Troy.

Fuck my life.

Forcing myself to stare down at the food that consumed my plate, I cringed with each breath I took. Certainly, I had done something in my past life that would automatically make cupid punish me this cruelly. My fingers sifted through the collection of grapes and strawberries, taking longer than necessary to make my decision of which fruit I wanted to eat. I didn't know if it was my imagination or if the burn of two lasers were really drilling into my forehead. The scary part was that I wasn't quite sure what I wanted more – for Troy to stare at me or for him to not know I was alive.

I settled on swinging my legs over the side of the arm of the mesh chair and fixated my gaze on the blaze before me. Feeling the heat radiate onto my skin, the warmth of the flames danced in the pit around me. The gentle breeze shifted their direction every so often, along with the fumes that rose from the timber.

"Can we go inside now? I'm getting raped by mosquitoes." Barbie complained and squealed before she slapped her skin pathetically.

"Bugspray." My heart skipped a beat when I recognized the husky, yet intoxicating voice from across the way, "You should have just put on the fucking Off."

My shoulders tensed with familiarity. I loved the way he swore, just like everything else about him. But there was something beautiful about the way his occasionally vulgar tongue reflected his intense and passionate personality. Although I wouldn't dare admit it aloud ever again, but his cusses when he came would always induce a Pavlovian response for me to follow suit – whether it be in his bed when his parents were out or in his treehouse, beneath the twinkling stars on a night like tonight.

"Ew. I'm wearing Ralph Lauren. I'd rather not smell like shit, but I guess it works for your image."

Well, at least I didn't have to worry about Sharpay trying to jump Troy's bones anymore.

"Who invited her anyways?" Troy snapped, obviously less than thrilled with her presence.

Although now scraping off the burnt edges of my hotdog, I heard him cough several times that didn't sound quite human. Still, I refused to look up at him.

"You can thank your best friend for that one." Taylor snapped bitterly before her voice softened with concern, "Are you okay, Troy?"

His fits never ceased and I fought the urge to rush to his side and push back his bangs comfortingly. What I did notice, however, was the way Zeke and Taylor immediately sprung to the edges of their chairs – ready for disaster. My eyebrows furrowed at this sight. Their eyes were glued upon Troy, wide and terrified. Like he was about to shatter beneath their noses.

"You need me to get you water? Or I could call and see if…"

"Calm the fuck down." Troy hissed between convulsions, the edge in his voice leaking with every word. I smiled – one of the draws I had towards Troy was his sarcastic side. I was suddenly elated this had not been lost with his memory, "It's the smoke. I'm not gonna die, so don't call 911 unless you all want an underage."

That was the boy I knew and loved – a fighter until the end.

I heard a shift of movement and crunch of sneakers against the dirt. The gravitational pull beneath my body suddenly shifted – the wind swirled around me. The ignition of the flames suddenly felt weak, pathetic compared to the burn of the internal sun approaching. My breath quickened until it ceased to a stop in synchrony to when the snaps halted. By the humidity that stuck to my skin, I didn't need to look up to know who was standing just a mere foot from me.

Of course, I broke my rule and allowed my eyes to fly upwards into the mosque of a face painted by Leonardo himself.

The smolder of the fire was nothing compared to the burn of intensity he used to look down at me. For a wrinkle in time, _I _was the one with amnesia. I completely forgot where I was and what my name was for that matter. The only important thing in this universe was his eyes boring down to me. I was his prisoner, but I would willingly be shackled if I could stare into his face for the rest of my life.

"Gabriella?" This angel sung my name. He made it sound musical.

I didn't respond. I merely tilted my head and admired the turquoise flecks that held me spellbound. However, I had to narrow my eyes to squint into his face.

"Gabriella?" He tried again, though I didn't hear it. I was too busy having fantasies of the way he used to purr _Gabi _in my ear so many years before. My full name didn't quite sound right on his lips. It made me frown, for the only times he ever called me by my birth name was when he was irritated with me.

The frown on my face made him appear upset, but again, I didn't notice. However I did snap out of my daydream when he pointed towards the chair that Jason had been occupying – right next to mine. "I'm stealing this chair since it's too smoky over there. Do you care?"

Ah, the ever constant battle raged within my head. One side of me longed for Troy to plop beside me – hell, he could even let me sit on his lap and save a chair. That was my sixteen year-old self begging to reveal herself again, to clutch him as I had so many nights before and snuggle my face into the depths of his neck, never to return to the world. He had been a dangerous summer fling for me, but our history of best friends made me feel safe. However, the responsible side of me jabbed like a thorn in my side. I was supposed to be restraining from him, wasn't I? Protect my heart, for it wouldn't be able to handle a break again.

Unfortunately, my sixteen year-old self won– I certainly didn't want to be rude. Beneath my sweater, I shrugged, aloof, "Go for it."

It might have been my imagination, but I was certain that I heard him groan with frustration while he collapsed into the chair and took a long sip of his beer. I couldn't help but peer around his fingers and smile. Corona – although he was more of a hard liquor boy, he'd only drink Corona.

I could feel everyone's eyes on us, as though they were waiting for me to turn to him with passion flaming my cheeks and confess my love to him. Of course, this wasn't going to happen. The psychologist warned us, all those years ago when he first blinked up at me in the hospital room and asked me who I was, not to overwhelm him with memories of the past. If he asked, of course we could be honest with him, but spilling my heart would probably set him to an unbalance of perplexity. Besides, I saw how he reacted when Sharpay lied earlier today and said they had been an item. I knew I would have gotten the same results.

But, as he always had been, he was insistent. Still gazing at the fire, Troy cocked his head to the side ever so slightly so I could be seen from his peripheral, "You go to Stanford, right?"

I wanted to hit him and tell him not to talk to me, that this was not part of my game plan. Of course he was just trying to be nice, but it was insanely difficult to keep from staring into the depths of his eyes as he spoke to me, "Yep."

"What are you going for?" He asked like he cared.

My stomach pierced – Troy had been the one to help me make this decision back when I was sixteen, and now he didn't even know, "Pre-med."

He let out a low whistle, "Smart girl."

I shrugged.

He breathed another breath of vexation, "You're only like thirty-five miles from Berkeley."

32.7 to be exact. But who was counting?

"Really? Huh-" I tried to be as distant as humanly possible, but he would have been stupid not to believe that I was fighting viciously to stare at the fire. The thermo heat was exploding beside me, however. Yes, I should have been ecstatic that after three long years of not seeing him, I was finally having a conversation with him. My logic was twisted, I knew this. I didn't care.

An awkward silence fell between us. I took that opportunity to look around the other faces upon the black background of the night that all held the same, robotic expression as they trained their gazes forward; except Sharpay, of course, who was too busy with her phone too close to her scowl. Wiggling further into my sweatshirt, I suddenly heard the murmurs of two voices approaching from the outside of the circle.

"The fucker got this shit all over my shirt." Chad growled when he entered the beams of light that tangoed over his face. I tried my absolute best not to snicker when he chucked the bleeding condiment on the dirt floor. In the mystery of the night, the blobs of crimson across his chest and between his shorts made him appear either as he had been murdered by a grizzly, or he just had an epically terrible period.

"Hey! It's not my fault!" Jason snapped when his black hair shimmered into view. The group laughed quietly as his tongue darted out and licked the mustard stain on the corner of his mouth. Smacking his lips, his head tilted ever so slightly in consideration before he shrugged, "Not bad."

"Ew... I hope you get AIDS." Sharpay's pointed nose crinkled with disgust.

Beside me, Troy rolled his eyes, "You can't get AIDS from eating mustard. Maybe you should go back to seventh grade human growth and development."

My eyes widened and my stomach flipped. Whipping my black curls around to stare at him with perplexity, my eyebrows rose to the top of my forehead when he caught my gaze – a small smile drew upon his lips. I frowned back, which made his expression fall. How did he remember we had the sex unit in seventh grade if he couldn't remember engaging insex with me three and a half years later?

"Maybe you should, since it's the only time you've ever seen a vagina."

Snorting, Troy threw his head back to take a swig of his beer, "I can't remember that class. But don't worry Blondie, I've seen more than enough to understand the anatomy."

His statement wasn't exactly cocky, just irritated with Sharpay's comebacks. However, it didn't stop my stomach from piercing with a pang of jealousy. Sure, I had slept with a few other people else since Troy left East High junior year, but somehow the possession ran thick through my skin. How dare anyone else touch someone so divine? But he didn't belong to me anymore – I lost my Troy to the car accident. This new Troy was owned by the world, not me.

"I bet you have." Sharpay purred back, and I saw a flash of her eyes flicker towards me. My cheeks paled in fright, pleading with her not to say a word. She just gave me a snicker and took another drink of the fruity whatever-it-was she was drinking.

I turned away from Troy, not wanting him to see the hurt that most likely etched across my face. My fingers slowly trailed over the surface of the paper plate before I tossed it into the fire, watching it catch ablaze. Sparks flew, exploding in the direction of Troy and I.

"Careful." He said softly and put out his hand as though to protect me from the embers. It made me slightly angry, his kindness towards me.

"Pretty sure I'm not gonna combust." I mumbled, crossing my arms and glaring into the flames.

"Sorry, just tryin' to be nice." Troy's soothing tone was leaked with a sarcastic edge. I couldn't help but grin.

"So I'm thinkin'," Chad interrupted, making me turn towards him and raise one of my narrowed brows. Troy did the same, almost in synchronization as me, "We hike tomorrow? Since it's supposed to be cloudy?"

"That sounds like a great idea!" Zeke exclaimed, far too excited for the rest of the sleepy group. I rubbed my nose, reminding myself how much I wanted to rest – even if I was doomed a night of little slumber due to the location of my sleeping arrangements.

Someone, however, was not as impressed. Sharpay glowered in his direction – Taylor grinned triumphantly when she said, "You've got to be fucking kidding me? I don't do hikes, this whole nature thing really isn't my style." To add to the effect, she slapped the side of her neck to kill a mosquito that could have been imaginary. I caught a glance at Troy to watch him roll his eyes and shake his head at me.

"You should have thought of that before you came here, princess."

Sharpay whirled around, her eyes black and her blonde hair flying like a witch's broom, "Shut up, Bolton. You can't even remember if you even fucking like the wilderness."

Thick as smoke, the tension suddenly fogged through circumference of the circle. Everyone held their breath, myself included. I also gripped the edge of my mesh chair to keep from jumping up and placing a hand on his shoulder in calming as he seethed towards the ice queen. His fits balled until the veins mapping the inside of his forearms popped with preparation and definition. Eyes burning, the sharpness of ice pierced through her slender body. No one moved, no one motioned to stop him when his jaw ground and he rose to a stance. His fingers released his beer and allowed it to crash to the spongy surface of the earth.

"I think I've had enough for one night." Troy growled and spun on his heels to face his best friend, "I'll meet you guys inside." He informed before stalking away. I cringed as the screen door slammed to a shut.

"Smooth Sharpay, real smooth." Taylor shook her head in disgust.

"What? We were all thinking it, I just said it."

Biting my lip and staring into the fire again, I tried not to think of how she was right.


	3. Pons

"Our dreams must be stronger than our memories. We must be pulled by our dreams, rather than pushed by our memories."

~Jesse Jackson~

* * *

I quickly learned that some holy power wanted me to suffer.

And it wanted me to suffer _badly_.

My hip was numb, along with the rest of my body. Yet by some bizarre curse of science, that numbness also accompanied a piercing stab into my lower back. I was freezing – the red and white tie blanket that curled around my curves and crevices was stuffed tightly into the navy sleeping bag that cocooned around me and still didn't give me enough protection from the coldness. It was bizarre, because it was hardly cold outside. I figured it was being so close to the ground that caused these weird arctic sensations. Whatever it was, it kept me from getting a wink of sleep.

Oh yeah, and Sharpay's obnoxious snoring might have had something to do with it too.

I turned over, huddling into a tighter ball and shoved the pathetic pillow over the tops of my ears to attempt to filter the pig-like snorts from the bed. How Taylor could stand it being so close to her rasps was beyond me – she didn't even have drunkenness as her excuse. I, on the other hand, was beginning to get a migraine.

I flopped over so I stared blankly at the beams running across the ceiling, framing the roof. With no alarm clock within the walls, I had absolutely no idea what time it was. I do know that everyone, with the exception of Chad, quickly followed Troy back into the house after he had stalked away. Chad and I remained out by the fire for another hour, too lost in the maze of our thoughts to discuss anything. I had wondered if he was thinking of Taylor the way I had been thinking of Troy. Then again, I was certain that Chad and Taylor's relationship was nothing compared to what Troy's and mine had been. Or at least, I liked to believe so.

My eyes snapped open when Sharpay snorted, sounding quite like a man. I was sorry I hadn't brought a tape recorder and used this as blackmail like she now had on me. But alas, she was punishing me with insomnia instead.

Maybe if I chucked my phone at her, it would shut her up. Or knock her out – that seemed like a better option of the two.

Sighing, I decided that if I remained in this room any longer, I was surely going to hit something. I sat up, rubbed my rounded nose, and then intricately twisted around to collect my pillow from where it sat in the haphazard mess of my nest. Wiggling out of the body cast, I freed my bare legs and stood up. With one last glare at the perpetrator of my sleep, I tugged my tie-blanket from the sleeping bag and hurried towards the hallway. Thanks to my days as a forward in soccer, I was nimble on my feet as I padded towards the steps, making sure I was extra quiet as I passed the boys room. The last thing I wanted was to awaken Troy and have an uncomfortable run-in.

Eager to catch a wink of sleep, I quickly tapped down the steps into the blackness of the first level. All was quiet apart from the crickets that chipped evenly from the open windows. Less annoying than Sharpay's snores, I figured, and let out a breath of relief with content. Nothing was going to keep me from sleeping any longer.

I used the silver reflections of the moon beneath the window sills as my guide towards the lounge area. A few times, I stumbled over the wooden floor and squeezed my eyes shut, wincing and waiting for a stir upstairs. Once satisfied that everyone was still asleep, I continued my quest until I reached the couches.

And my heart stopped beating.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Sprawled across the cushions was a figure I knew almost as well as I knew my own. From the position I was at with my arm curled around the pillow and a blanket dragging behind me, I could see the very tip of the chestnut hair – black in the moonlight. His arm was draped over the back of his head and his finger hung loosely, twitching every few seconds. I saw a red and white blanket – my heart skipped a beat, knowing that I had made it for him in happier times – twisted softly around the tone of his body. His feet faced the tall ceiling in a position of relaxation. He was there, in all his perfection and I was staring dumbfounded at him.

In hindsight, I realized I should have been paying more attention while seated by the fire instead of trying to avoid him at all cost. Maybe then I would have remembered him telling Taylor that Zeke and Jason were taking the bunk beds in the only spare bedroom and Chad had taken the little space on the floor. Therefore, Troy had been designated to the couch for the remainder of our vacation. Why couldn't I had remembered that little fact and save myself from this?

I was just about to turn around and head back up to the prison of Sharpay's snorts when I heard a soft moan. My ears pricked up – it was as sweet as honey and just as innocent. Turning towards the couches again, I couldn't help the magnet in my chest begin to pulsate and coax me with memories tickling against my heart. Swallowing, I couldn't help my curiosity as I dropped my makeshift bed and tip toed towards the sofa.

Troy's face was relaxed and untouched as I approached it, as though the accident had never erased his memory of his life. His head slowly rumpled against the pillow it was rested upon and he let out another mewl, not to be mistaken for his infamous groan while aroused. This was pure, muffled by sleep and simply meant he was lost in a sea of dreams.

I had to fight the sudden raging urge to curl up beside him and rest my head upon the sculpture of his chest, the way I had so many times while in the bed of his beaten up truck. His lips, the ones that had fused with mine permanently that summer, were closed together – he wasn't quite smiling, but there was an aurora of happiness that shined off the unusual paleness of his skin. I couldn't contain my needs any longer. Slowly, as if he would snap awake, my hands trembled as they reached out to brush against his bare forearm. The feel of his skin unleashed rages of both familiar and exciting fireworks beneath my fingertips. I drew back with a hot suction of breath, afraid.

Had Troy felt it, he didn't stir. Once my breathing regulated again, I felt the heroine-like desire race through my veins again. I _needed _to maintain contact. Three years had been enough to drive me towards insanity.

My fingers found his skin again and I felt euphoria pulse through my arm. It was like touching heaven, caressing nirvana. They started at the division of his bare shoulder – I blushed when I caught a peak of his exposed nipple before his body was lost in the sea of scarlet. With every cell I touched, I was slammed with another memory of our lives together: age twelve licking mint ice cream cones in his tree house, holding hands while surrounded by twinkling fireflies beside the lake, him kissing me goodnight on my doorstep before running to his truck. I wished desperately to inject these memories back into his brain, forcing him to remember. By the time I reached the nails on his fingers, my throat thick and it was difficult to swallow.

"Troy…" I whimpered, begging his unconsciousness. Crouching behind him, I tenderly placed my forehead against his temple, between his head and his arched arm. He didn't move or falter – Troy had always slept like the dead.

I knew he couldn't hear me, but being so close to him, I couldn't help myself as I whispered softly, "Troy, it's me… it's Gabi."

He let out a sigh that was accompanied with a gentle moan. I lost my breath when he nuzzled against me, almost as though some part of him knew I was there. Once I collected myself again, I stroked my thumb against his shoulder.

"Troy, I know you're in there." I murmured, not really sure if I had gone crazy with lack of sleep or not. I was talking to the old Troy, _my _Troy, "Troy, please. I miss you… so much. Please, if you can hear me, please come back to me… please…"

I sat and waited for a sign – a whisper of "Gabi" or of a reach to catch my hand, anything. But he just continued his even breaths, lost in a world far simpler than real life.

Heartbroken, I closed my eyes with defeat. Careful not to wake him, I pressed a chaste kiss to beneath his chin, a spot that used to belong to me. Then I slowly rolled backwards and onto my feet.

With one longing look backwards towards his innocence, I turned around and curled up beneath my blanket. Closing my eyes and resting my head against the pillow in the middle of the floor, I turned in the opposite direction of the couch, fighting the tears that burned like acid.

* * *

"Gabriella… Gabriella…"

Someone was shaking my shoulder, drawing me from the limbo between fantasy and reality. I was groggy, but not quite in a level of sleep. I could feel the hardness of the wooden floor – most likely the cause of my inability to _completely_ escape to dreams. The swirls of color and sensations of falling slowly began to slip away when my eyes fluttered open, being greeted to the most stunning shade of cerulean I had ever encountered.

I was disoriented for a brief moment. My eyes darted over the curves of Troy's face, staring blankly up at him. Expecting him to lean down and kiss me, I leaned up onto my elbows and waited impatiently for his lips to cover mine.

They didn't. Instead, Troy furrowed his brows together and asked, "What are you doing on the floor?"

I blinked, suddenly remembering my dilemma back in the room and sighed, turning my head away so the disappointment of reality didn't cross my face.

"Trying to sleep." I responded bitterly, hiding the hurt, "what does it look like I'm doing?"

He rolled his eyes, though it was difficult to see in the dark. I assumed it wasn't much later than when I had first come from the upstairs, for the house was still so quiet that a mouse could have been heard scampering across the floor. Troy rolled backwards, away from my face and onto his knees, glaring at me.

"No shit. But _why _are you down here?"

"Because Sharpay annoys the shit out of me even when she's unconscious." I rubbed my lids, forcing myself to wake up, "She snores like a man."

A flicker of a smirk crossed his lips, "Seriously?" He asked, amused.

"Would I really be sleeping on the floor down here if I was lying?" My tone was sarcastic, and ultimately rude.

"Jesus, I was just asking." He snapped, "No need to bitch at me."

"I'm not bitching, I just want to sleep."

He let out a breath of frustration. I could see anger flash in the brilliance of his eyes – icy hot. By the way his forehead creased into lines and his chin remained grounded, I knew he was trying to suppress his irritation. It had been a common occurrence that I had seen when we finally crossed the bridge of friendship and something more. Due to our best friend history, Troy and I had never sugarcoated anything. Our feistiness, however, only intensified our desire for the other.

"Well if you stay on the floor, you're gonna ache all morning." Troy pointed out what I already knew. My legs were beginning to cramp and my hip felt as though it had popped out of its socket about three hours ago.

"You sound like you've had experience."

Troy smirked tightly, "You can thank college for my permanently numbed ass. Come on, you should have just taken a couch."

I shrugged, "I didn't want to invade your space or whatever."

"Please," Troy rolled his eyes again, "do I look like a guy that needs a lot of space?"

He was asking rhetorically, but I couldn't help but finally look at him – I mean, _really _look at him.

And he looked good – I mean, _really _good.

I realized then how different he really was; how much he had grown up. His face, which used to be curved in a boyish shape, was now a sturdy chin. His hair was fuller than I remember; not the stringiness that used to slip between my fingers. The cut was much more matured – spiky at the ends, but still in the shaggy bangs. The amount of time he spent in the gym had been a blessing upon his body. He was muscular – broad shoulders and shadows beneath his pecs that proved he was sculpted – but not excessively bulky to make him look like he was amped up on steroids. Upon his washboard abs, worthy to make GQ bow to his power, hung gray sweats low on his waist. He was kneeling before me, leaning back on his arm and making his biceps bulge.

I had strategically restrained myself by saving his eyes for last – I knew all human thoughts would turn into a garble as soon as I looked at them. Cooled by ocean waves, they were big, and highlighted by the thick flutter of black lashes. There was a sensation of my skeleton turning to jello when he looked at me. I always felt dizzy; being under his penetration was like all of humanity was staring at me. It was as though he was reading through my skin, discovering the map of my personality and searching to find how he could make his voyage to my heart.

Unable to take it any longer, I shivered and looked down into my lap – anywhere but at him.

Swallowing in my attraction, I suddenly clawed at my blanket and rolled up on my knees, "Um, yeah I just need to take-"

"I got it." Troy smiled brightly at me, making my heart turn to butter, as he reached for my pillow.

Blinking, I suddenly remembered my ultimate goal of not becoming attached. Therefore, in an attempt to tame my emotions, I leapt to my feet and snarled while snatching the pillow away before he could grab it.

"I think I can handle a pillow, thanks." I hissed and began to stalk towards the couch.

I was just about to throw the bedding onto the cushions when I suddenly heard a snap of, "What the fuck did I do to you?"

My eyebrows furrowed as I threw my head back over my shoulder to see Troy standing with his fists balled and his jaw locked. It was difficult to see him due to the darkness that consumed the cabin, but it was easy to tell with the knives in his eyes and the trembles of his hands that he was fuming. Again, my stomach flipped, but not in the good way. I was suddenly frightened of the man who stood before me, glowering.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." I stammered, wishing for my confidence to return as I patted the pillow.

He snorted bitterly before crossing his arms, inflating his muscles to create a threat, "You've been a bitch to me ever since you walked through that door. I'm just trying to be nice and you give me one word answers. Seriously, did I do something to piss you off or what?"

I stood dumbstruck momentarily, shocked by his words. Obviously, I hadn't meant to be cruel, but I certainly didn't think he'd notice my distance anyways, "No…"

"Did I like fuck your friend and leave her or something? Ditch her at homecoming?"

It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest, but only because the guilt was beginning to eat at my ribcage. How could I be so vile towards him when I loved him so much? I hadn't thought this was irritating him, but it did. Beneath his eyelids, his cheeks were a shade of crimson – a flush that only arrived when he was embarrassed, angry, or hammered.

"I've seen pictures." Troy growled. I was surprised no one had woken up yet, "You and I were friends for awhile. What did I do?"

I hadn't even thought of that. Of course he would have looked at past yearbooks and pictures his mother would have snapped when we were younger. That's how he recognized me when I first entered the cabin; why he first knew my name was no longer a mystery. How did I repay him? By shoving it back into his face. I was a bitch.

I shook my head, feeling the prickle of tears in my eyes but I was too stubborn to let them fall, "No, no you didn't do anything."

Scowling, Troy glared at me once more before stomping over to his selective couch – kitty-corner to mine.

"Whatever, sorry for intruding on your perfect trip." He dramatically rolled over so he faced the back of the sofa. I couldn't tell because it was too dark, but I imagined he was squeezing his eyes shut, forcing himself to sleep.

With no other option, I turned and sat down on the couch. Due to the argument, I didn't have the energy to lean into a lateral position and beg for sheep to fly across my vision. It was too quiet too – had Troy fallen asleep, I would have been able to hear his breathing. The crickets chirped in the dead of the night and the trees scratched against the house with anger. The air between us was thick with tension and it was difficult to focus on my own thoughts – not when Troy was cursing my mother for having me just a few feet away.

I found I could keep busy for the next ten minutes by playing with my toe, watching as it arched upwards and then back down again. This was utterly pathetic; I had had confrontations with Troy Bolton too many times to count and they all ended happily, why was this one any different?

Unable to take it any longer, I sighed and looked up at the blob that I knew was him, "Troy?"

Had I not heard the sharp suction of breath, I would have believed he was sleeping.

I blew upwards against my bangs, causing them to land in a flop against my forehead, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be a bitch."

There was a grunt and a shift beneath his blanket, but otherwise he was silent.

Trying my very hardest not to throw my pillow at him and force him to look at me, I felt my voice become stronger through its whisper, though I tried to be respectful towards those upstairs. Although, I wouldn't have minded if Sharpay would have been disturbed.

"Look, it's not that I feel like your intruding or anything," I felt the words come up like vomit, not really thinking before I said, "I just… it's hard for me. You woke up from your coma and you asked me what my name was. You were my best friend, Troy. I don't know what to say to you because I have so many things I _want _to say to you, but you don't even know who I am." I paused, wiping the tear that almost fell, "And that sucks."

Finally, Troy flipped over enough so I could see the pain explode through his irises, "You think it's been easy for me, Gabriella? Knowing that I have to live up to _him_? It fucking sucks. My friends? Yeah, they don't want me, they want him."

It took a moment for me to figure out who he was talking about until it suddenly dawned on me. He was talking about himself, before the accident. _He _was the basketball superstar, the one that was supposed to be captain come winter had he stayed at East High. He was compared to the charmer that captured the heart of every girl and that the guys had dubbed as their god.

_He _was the old Troy.

_He _was my Troy.

I suddenly felt so much guilt leak through my veins that I wanted to throw up.

"Don't you have college friends? Ones that don't know who you were?" I asked, not meaning to be rude.

"Yeah. But I don't have a childhood. It's been three years, and I still don't even know who the fuck I am."

It was silent for a long moment. I began to squirm uneasily.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, unable to take the tension any longer, "For being a brat and for you know… everything."

"I don't want sympathy." The strain in his voice had disappeared; hopefully, that was a good sign.

Again, muteness consumed. I couldn't tell if he really wanted to sleep or if he was just waiting for me to speak, that maybe he was finally tired of trying to speak to me and was waiting for me to make the first move. I couldn't help but tilt my head and gaze softly at him. Although he may not have his memory intact, his outburst proved that his personality was still within the threads of himself. Of course, yes he was technically a separate person and at that moment I would have preferred _my _Troy, but I still saw glimmers of his old self. It comforted me.

"Sharpay was a bitch to you." I stated after a few minutes, now moved onto my pinkie toe.

There was a wrinkle on the furniture. I assumed he turned to look at me, even if he couldn't see me, "What?"

"Sharpay," I repeated, "She was even brattier to you than I was and you didn't ask her what she did to you."

He seemed to consider this before he spoke softly, indicating he was no longer about to unleash World War III on me, "Sharpay's bitchy to everyone. I saw how you were with Chad and Jason. You don't like being like that, I can tell."

I shrugged, "I can get angry, trust me."

Troy seemed to find this humorous, for he chuckled quietly, "I don't doubt it. I'll be sure to try to stay away so I don't unleash the storm."

This idea suddenly panged me – I didn't like the thought that he would try to avoid me. Call me hypocritical because I did the same, but talking to Troy was getting easier by the second. Of course, the looming reminder of his blank stare when he awoke in the hospital had me wary. I wasn't expecting friendship, but if we could get past the next two weeks without ripping each other apart, I would be satisfied.

"You should get some sleep." He said, I could hear a yawn slip from his throat.

I didn't want to sleep, but the idea began to sound inviting as my body pulled me into a horizontal lay, "I'm sorry, again." I repeated, "I shouldn't have been a coward."

"Whatever." Troy responded indifferently before I heard him roll over once again.

I let out a sigh and allowed my eyes to close, immediately feeling the undertow of unconsciousness pull me from reality and enter a much less confusing place.

* * *

That confusion returned when I woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming onto my face and the aroma of sweet coffee waft through my nose.

I blinked several times, still slightly disoriented. The russet that covered the walls and gave the homey, pine vibe slowly began to return to actual shapes of the walls instead of blurs. The warmth of the blanket hugged every inch of my skin. Snuggling into it, I inhaled the scent that filled my nostrils and smiled, never wanting to leave the spot I was in. I was content.

There was a shuffle in the kitchen, but not one that annoyed me. Instead, I allowed myself to stare at the empty couch on the side of mine and tilt my head curiously. The blanket that had been folded beneath the arm of the furniture and the pillow that matched was out of place. At first, I couldn't pinpoint why this was, but then the memories of the previous night suddenly flooded back to me. It didn't break my peace however. Instead, it only gave me a jolt of energy that made me sit up and curiously look around the barren lounge area.

Fluttering my eyes opened and closed again, I searched until the clang of dishes attracted my attention. I weighed my options of staying cuddled beneath my covering or gather the courage to see if the amends had been made between us.

The debate didn't last very long. I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and stood up, slightly embarrassed that I was wearing only black sports bra and a lime green tank top that didn't quite reach the itty bitty shorts on my legs – I cursed my mother for giving me such a rounded ass. I tried to tell myself Troy had seen so much more than this, and then I remembered he couldn't recall a memory of what my tits even looked like.

Sucking in confidence, I padded towards the kitchen to be greeted to the most delicious meat. Of course, I couldn't eat Troy's back - even beneath a cut off shirt, he still looked like a Roman god – but I couldn't help but lick my lips.

It also just so happened that he turned around just as I was doing so. My face paled and his lips curled up to a smirk.

"Hey, you're up." His smirk quickly turned to a real smile; one that made my lungs collapse and my vision blur, "Sleep better?"

"Then trying to fight Sharpay's snores? Much." I responded and placed my hand onto the tiny table. It was a good thing we would be eating most of our meals outside, because the kitchen was most likely smaller than the bathroom. I looked up to see Troy's hair was matted against his forehead and his skin was glistening slightly. Beneath the overwhelming air of java, there was an underlying scent of sweat. It was one that was unique to him, one that was familiar, "Thanks again for letting me invade your cave."

Troy shrugged. I tried not to watch the way his skin contorted around his biceps, "I don't care. You can crash there for the rest of the time. I'm guessing Blondie's sleep apnea isn't a onetime occurrence."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at being that close to him once again for six more nights, "I don't know…"

Again, his shoulders rose, "Whatever you want."

I chewed on my lip as he opened a cabinet and sifted through the glassware. With a quick throw of his head, he turned around to catch my eye, "You want some coffee?"

My eyes furrowed, "Since when do you drink coffee?" I asked, remembering how he used to complain whenever he took a sip of his mother's back in Albuquerque.

Face paling slightly, Troy reached for the pot. His eyes never left mine.

"I didn't drink it?"

I couldn't tell what he was thinking by his slightly wary tone. Trying to be as casual as possible, I placed my hands upon the table, "You used to say it tasted like boiled shit with the aftertaste of stale tofu."

Troy snorted, "Does tofu even get stale?"

"Who knows."

He tried to give me a kind grin, but I could tell there was sadness in the corners of his eyes. Raising a second mug, he quirked an eyebrow, "So are you a drinker?"

I had been indifferent to it in high school. My dad had been a full fledged addict, though sometimes I only thought so because he wanted to piss off my best friend. Dad was funny when it came to Troy; he had loved him like his own son until he turned age fourteen. I don't know if it was a natural fatherly reaction – a teenage boy's dick grows thicker and the father automatically buys a shotgun – or if the two had gotten into a dispute when I wasn't around. My mother loved him like her own son, but that also could have been because she and Lucille Bolton had gotten along so well. It didn't matter, I argued with my dad until the sun came up about everything. Besides, he seemed to have been remorseful when Troy had gotten into the accident. He had even sat with me in the hospital while I watched him sleep.

Trying not to think of the bloodied face that was burned into my brain forever, I tried to focus on how well it had healed – almost unscratched.

"Yeah, I started drinking it after I needed to stay up for finals at Stanford. My roommate got me hooked."

Troy nodded, "That's why I started."

He poured the steaming liquid into the mugs and swiveled the ceramic in my direction. I smiled thankfully before curling my palm around the circumference.

"So," I blew onto the surface, watching the ripples wash against the walls, "Going somewhere?"

He glanced down at the workout clothes that I was nodding to. Casually, he lifted the cup to his lips and took a long sip, "Just got back. I was running."

We both fell silent when there was a shift of movement from above. I suddenly remembered that other people existed in this world beside the two of us, let alone this house. Troy's eyes were cast upwards; mine were still locked upon him. I didn't want to miss a moment of this solitude, knowing that the others would surface fairly quickly. It was almost eight-thirty, which was late for camping time.

Slowly, his eyes lowered and met mine again. I felt every inch of my body ignite in a burst of a flameless fire.

"Um," I hurriedly coughed, listening to the distant sound of a door slamming from above, "look, about last night-"

He rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the table, "I thought we were through this already?"

"We're um… we're okay? You're not angry at me?" I asked, not shyly, but warily.

I saw a flicker of my favorite smirk curl on his cheek, arching towards his tear duct.

"Why don't we just make this easy?" he suggested. It took me a long moment to realize what happening before Troy's palm was jutted out, facing the wall. I narrowed my eyes with confusion, staring at it as though it was a science project gone wrong, "Let's start over. Hi, my name's Troy Bolton. Apparently you and I were friends before I hit my head on the dashboard and lost my memory."

Although a strike of pain jabbed in my gut at the casualness of the words, I couldn't help but smile at his attempt, "Gabriella Montez. I used to climb into your tree house at one in the morning when your parents were asleep so we could have double solitaire tournaments."

Electricity surged through my fingertips when our hands connected together. I fought the urge to trace the lines of his palm and maintained eye contact with him the entire time our fists pumped.

Immediately, we jumped apart when the sound of Chad's voice bellowed through the house, "Sharpay! I need a fucking shower! Get out of there!"

"I think the gang's up." Troy mumbled and took a long sip of his coffee; not altering his gaze from my eyes once.

I giggled before bringing the mug up to my own lips, content for the first time, "Oh good. Now the party's really gonna start."


	4. Medulla

**A/N: I generally like to keep my infatuation with Zac and Vanessa completely separate from my TG work, but I've just got to say that this chapter was posted in celebration of Vanessa epically kicking total ass at the Hollywood Bowl as Mimi and Zac kicked total ass by "tipping" her whilst onstage. You two remind me why I fell in love with your characters daily.**

**Thank you SO much for everyone who is reading and everyone who has left me their comments. Seriously, this story is REALLY fun to write so I'm glad that you guys are taking it so well. Keep letting me know your thoughts. I hope you like this chapter, it's one of my favorites.

* * *

**

"It's surprising how much of memory is built around things unnoticed at the time."

~Barbra Kingsolver~

* * *

"Oh you have _got _to be kidding me."

The sound of Chad's groan forced me to look up from the picnic table and roll my eyes. Across the dirt ground, I heard Troy's low snicker rumble through my ears. His eyes caught mine momentarily before I turned back to Paris Hilton's evil twin standing with her hip popped and her fingers tapping her revealing skin.

"What?" Sharpay asked behind her sunglasses that appeared too big on her skinny face.

"We're not going to a photo shoot, Sharpay." Taylor explained while reaching for a water bottle that rested beside me. I clutched my own tightly to stifle the giggles that were threatening to be released every time I took sight of the glittering, magenta skin-tight top and matching skirt she was dressed in. It reminded me of The Parent Trap, when evil Meredith Blake attempted to go on a camping trip with Lindsey Lohan squared. I grinned wickedly; it would be quite amusing to put a lizard in this woman's shiny blonde strands that were pulled into a giant fish tale braid, swaying down her back.

She adjusted smoothed the fabric down her taught stomach – one that was a stick and worthy of runway. Chad had his head in his hands and I heard the vibrations of his deep voice against his skin, "Help me."

I tried not to burst into hysterics when I anticipated her pink Skechers turning into a deep shade of brown. She looked as though she was ready for an exercise video set in the eighties.

"You know we're going on trails, right?" Troy quirked his eyebrows and crossed his arms. After we sipped coffee together an hour ago, he had exchanged his dirty beater with a grey t-shirt with homemade cut off sleeves. I tried not to stare too long at the shadows his arms created or the way his red shorts clung to his slim waist with perfection. We might have had a peace treaty, but it still didn't mean give me the green light to ravish him, "As in your outfit is going to get dirty?"

"No it won't. As long as I stand in the middle of all of you so I don't get run over by stupid children on their bikes." She grinned proudly. Happy that she actually allowed the gears to work in her head, "Besides, your argument would be better if you didn't have drool pouring down the side of your face. Stop staring at my boobs, Bolton."

At first, I felt a surge of jealousy race through my veins. My fingers gripped the plastic in my hands, almost bursting it. However, after I whirled my head around to see Troy's hands out and a "what the hell are you smoking" kind of look stretched upon his face, I breathed a little easier.

"You would need boobs for me to look at."

Astounded and insulted, Sharpay stomped her foot upon the ground as though the quake beneath her feet would cause him to topple over and knock him out. Troy was fighting to keep his laughter within his palm, as well as the rest of the group. She looked as though she was a lethal cat about to claw his famous eyes out.

"Well good thing my tits are longer than your dick." She attempted to fire back, which only made him roll his eyes again.

"You wouldn't know, Evans. I wouldn't let you touch it with a ten foot pole."

"How would you know?"

Instead of becoming angry like the last time she poked at his lapse of memory, Troy simply glanced at Chad, "I have my resources. Besides, I'm allergic to bitch."

"Fuck you."

"Guys, seriously." Chad pathetically attempted to play mediator, but I could tell that he was sending Troy amused looks as he glowered at the blonde, "I want to get out of here without any spilt blood. Sharpay, we're going on paths up there," his finger pointed to the bluff that shielded the valley of the lake below, "not on bike trails. So you're pretty much gonna fuck up your outfit."

Dumbstruck, Blondie blinked several times as though the information was too difficult to process. Once it seemed to settle, however, she shrugged simply and lowered her sunglasses, "Even covered in dirt, I'll still look hotter than you bitches."

"Keep tellin' yourself that." Troy shot back before standing up fully and glancing towards me. I couldn't hold his gaze for very long without having the desire to take my clothes off, so I turned back to stand as well.

"So, do we even know where we're going?" Zeke asked curiously, looking at Chad for instructions.

"Oh! I do!" Taylor exclaimed, always the planner, and hurried to reach into her back pockets of her cargo shorts to retrieve a folded piece of paper – I prayed it was a map.

It was. However, I wasn't as comforted as I should have been. The piece of paper itself was large enough to be as big as Colorado's boarders and there were wiggles of lines as thin as the strands of my hair. Taylor squinted as she looked into the intricate web of roads and trails. I widened my eyes in fright and caught Chad's fear. Apparently there was more to the area than just simply follow one trail and wind up in the right place.

"Well… we could start on River Path… or maybe Sunburst trail… um… is that a city or a chocolate chip?"

Chad slapped his palm to his forehead, "And you were our valedictorian?"

"Definitely a chocolate chip."

"Okay, I'm getting impatient." Troy complained and crunched over to where the two of us were standing. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore how close he was to me; how I could reach out and trail my fingers over his arms and pull them around me, "Let's just go on… that trail."

His finger spun around until he pointed to a random squiggle upon the map. Taylor rolled her eyes, but nonetheless peered through her lashes to see his selection, "Sunburst trail it is."

"Finally… let's get going!" Zeke waved us over eagerly. Immediately, Taylor jumped to catch up with the rest of them. Excitement and adventure began to bounce between their conversations. I felt another presence linger as I collected my water bottle, remembering I would need to slide it into Taylor's backpack for safe keeping. I didn't want to flat out ask Troy why he was waiting for me in the off chance that I sounded too eager.

"Got everything?" He asked when I finally stood up, testing my weight on my old pair of running shoes.

I nodded, patting my athletic shorts, where my cell phone should have been. Of course, it would have made me breathe easier having it on me, but I doubted I'd have service on the bluffs anyways. It would only be extra weight.

"So can you do me a favor?" Troy smiled at me. I felt my skin prickle with heat.

I didn't really know what to say, "Um…that depends…"

He chuckled, "It's really easy. Just make sure I don't push Blondie off the ridgeline. Cuz I'm really tempted to."

Relieved, I grinned just as brightly as he, "Unfortunately, I'd fully support that motion."

"Then we're screwed, aren't we?"

Giggling, I nodded, "Yep. Pretty much."

* * *

"Ugh… it's so fucking hot out here… and I'm getting blisters!"

"She's starting to sound like the fucking Up kid." Chad, with his afro tied back at the nape of his neck and his chocolate skin leaking with sweat, mumbled to me under his breath. Between pants of my own and steps of my feet up the incline, I rolled my eyes and nudged his sticky arm.

"You invited her." I reminded him, trying to be the annoying thorn in his side due to his stupidities of making Taylor and I drag her along.

Beside me, Chad groaned and wiped his forehead. Unfortunately, I was in his direct line of flick and received a shower of perspiration. I would have been grossed out if my body wasn't completely drenched in my own sweat – I could barely decipher which droplets were his and which were mine in the sea of salt seeping through my pores. It was ironic, how my throat scalded with desire for water, yet my flesh was condensation all of my body fluid. Despite how annoying she was, Sharpay was right – it was _hot_.

"I know, I know… but she brought booze for tonight." Chad attempted to remind me.

In return, I glared at his bare chest, "I don't give a rat's ass. I'm not drinking while we're here and you need to stop being so fucking concerned with alcohol or I'm going to send you to an AA meeting."

Squinting at me through black eyes, Chad quirked his eyebrow, "You're not drinkin'?"

Every step I took felt as though I was shedding a hundred calories. I knew it was going to be hot while we were hiking, but I had absolutely no idea that it would be this excruciating. The trees and vegetation hugging the edges of the path provided a tiny amount of shade that kept us from all becoming barbequed eggs – if that was even possible. The air itself created a humid, almost tropical atmosphere as it bounced off the leaves and thickly lingered in the oxygen we breathed.

"I don't want to lose control." I confessed, throwing a glance over my shoulder to see the group trailing behind us and feeling the heat escalade on my skin – if that was even possible in this weather – when I admired the way Troy's shirtless body glistened in the filter of sunlight.

Chad followed my gaze. The gears seemed to click and he let out a sigh.

"Gabs," his arm slung over my shoulder. It was fairly uncomfortable due to the steam that radiated from the both of us, "you need to relax. You're here with _all _of your friends. Just let go."

That was much easier said than done. Of course, Chad wouldn't understand. It was simple to just slide back into the ease of friendship that the two had shared. The Bolton's moved fairly quickly after Troy woke from his coma. Apparently, there was a psychologist that specialized in amnesia patients in Santa Fe. Therefore, Jack Bolton – who was my gym teacher until he resigned – was hired in the Phy Ed. Department at a rival to Troy's new high school. Unlike me, who had been a coward and ran away when the pain was too intense, Chad fought to maintain contact even when Troy had absolutely no idea who he was. Lucille, Troy's mother, had been thankful that Chad attempted to bring back his childhood. She had called me several times in the three years that had passed – we were fairly close anyways so it wasn't awkward – but I couldn't bring myself to make the drive. Even my father, who at one point wished Troy had moved away, suggested I head up with Chad one weekend.

"I am relaxed. I just refuse to be out of control." I pushed back a branch so I could step through the uneven surface of the path. The backs of my calves were starting to strain in ways I hadn't felt since my coach made us run hills for twenty minutes straight. The good old days of high school soccer; how I missed them.

"I'll take care of yah." He nudged my elbow playfully.

Although he couldn't see it beneath my stolen aviators, I rolled my eyes, "Chad… last time I drank with you, you ended up losing seven times in beer pong and had the sick desire to go skinny dipping with Jason and Zeke's mom."

He snorted in remembrance, "Yeah, and?"

"You can't even take care of yourself, let alone me."

"Point taken. I just want you to have a good time. Just relax, Montez. You're on vacation, so live that way."

I sighed and smeared the sweat on my forehead across the back of my arm. Over my body was a loose fitting tank top that was completely drenched in the hour and a half we had been out here. I was tempted to strip down to just my magenta sports bra, except I didn't want to match Barbie's obnoxious tennis outfit. So the gray top stayed on and my black shorts looked as though I peed in them – twice.

There was a crunch on the dirt from behind us. I stiffened – a reaction that was induced when I felt the familiar shift of air around me. Chad and I turned simultaneously as our pursuer slowed his jog while approaching us, "'Bout time you actually run." Chad teased, which only earned him a snicker from Troy.

"Evans is driving us crazy." I looked behind him to see that Taylor was hurrying to catch up. Her hair as beginning to puff out in a frazzle above her head, "And you guys ditched us."

"Nah… Gabs and I just do things fast and hard together." Chad joked, emphasizing the innuendo.

Troy's eyebrows quickly flew up with amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked at me, "Really?"

I bit my tongue to keep from telling him that he would know.

"We have a problem." Taylor huffed when she finally stumbled over a root to reach us. We all flinched, anticipating her to crash on her face, but thankfully Chad's arm provided her with enough support for her to grip onto. He carefully pulled her back to a stance, slowly holding her gaze. I counted the seconds that neither breathed.

Bluntly, Troy cleared his throat at the same time that I asked, "What's going on?"

Shaking her head, Taylor took a step back from her ex and looked at both of us standing opposite of each other, "Sharpay and Jase want to head back."

Chad rolled his eyes, "Tell Jase to suck it up and ignore her."

"We've only got two bottles of water left though. And they're warm anyways. I'm afraid we'll all dehydrate." The scientist within Taylor was stringing ideas faster than the boys.

"Awe fuck… I want to get to the top!" Chad complained as he looked up. The canopy of the evergreens and birches were too tall to view the tip of the bluff.

"What do you think?" Taylor was looking at me, the one who had also excelled in school.

Despite the fact that I felt like a human slime ball, I couldn't help but cringe at the thought of returning so early, "I could keep going. If we go back to the cabin, all we'll do is sit around and bitch about how hot it is."

"All we're doing right now is walking and bitching about how hot it is."

I shrugged.

"Troy? What do you think?"

"Hmmm?" he called, his eyes shifting nervously as though he was caught staring at something he shouldn't have been, "What'd you say?"

Chad was laughing at something obnoxiously as he patted Troy on the shoulder. Had he not been wearing his non-stolen pair of aviators – I tried not to draw attention to mine, or rather _his, _just on the off chance he would magically remember – I would have seen him glare with mortification at his best friend, "Dude… the Twin Mountains are _that _way." He pointed in a random direction. Were there even such things as The Twin Mountains?

"Fuck off." Troy growled. Taylor and I looked at each other with confusion – obviously we must have missed something.

"So anyways," Taylor sounded annoyed, which only made Chad roar, "what do you think we should do?"

"'Bout what?" He sent another icy glare to shut Chad up.

"Two water bottles… seven people… stay or leave?"

"What's everyone else's vote?" I couldn't help but have the twisted fantasy that he was looking at me.

"Jason and Sharpay are being fuckers and want to head back." Chad answered, his voice low with irritation, "Gabs and I want to stay out. Taylor thinks we're going to die…"

"I never said that." She snapped back, "I just said I don't want anyone to get dizzy or hurt. It's really hot out, Chad."

He rolled his eyes, "Thank you Captain Obvious."

"Zeke says he'll do whatever. He looks beat, though."

In synchronization, all four of us turned our heads in the direction of the other three. I couldn't deny it; they did look as though someone vacuumed the life out of them. Sharpay had her elbow resting on Jason's back, which was arched over due to his seat upon a jagged rock. Zeke was slumped against a tree, attempting to fan himself with a fern. I hoped it wasn't poison ivy – the rest of the trip would really be a disappointment if we all started itching obnoxiously.

Troy frowned, unsatisfied, "I'm fine. I could make it up to the top."

"_Yes_!" Chad pumped his fist triumphantly.

"Tay's right, though." I nodded towards them. Despite how much adventure I wanted, their safety was much more important than my thrill.

Chad reached down and snatched a twig from the brush scattered across the path. He frowned and smacked me with it.

"Hey! What was that for?" I rubbed my arm, even if it barely stung.

"For wimping out on me."

I shook my head – sweat flung in the others' faces, "You didn't let me finish. I think Tay's right in saying that the rest of them can't make it. We can give them one of our waters and they can head back down to the cabin and sleep or shower or whatever." I looked up at Troy, watching the excitement begin to glisten in his baby blues, "Tay, you can go with them if you want. The guys and I can hit the top and then come back."

"That's my girl!" Chad announced and threw his arm around me.

This seemed to ignite a spark in Taylor's heart. I hadn't suggested her parting because I wanted alone time with the two boys, I simply did it because she had protested against continuing on with the adventure. But with a flicker of jade in her eyes, she crossed her arms in rebellion.

"No way, I'm coming too. They can go on their own."

Warily, Troy and I caught glances. Without voicing it, I could tell his thoughts paralleled mine. It seemed stupid of Taylor to try to prove herself to Chad when this was something she most definitely didn't want to do. Chad, however, was slightly more vocal about the matter. He quirked one of his soaked eyebrows and folded his arms as well – his biceps bulged.

"Taylor, seriously just head back with them if you don't want to come." He sounded both concerned and annoyed.

"Who said I didn't want to come?" She hissed. I was impressed that she hadn't combusted with her black tank top that covered her body – even my grey shirt burned.

"I thought-"

"Well you thought _wrong_." As though she was Sharpay herself, Taylor spun on her heels and stomped away. I saw her fish her map and half drank water bottle from her bag.

Shaking his head with perplexity and disgust, Chad groaned, "I've gotta take a piss."

When he stalked off towards the thick of the woods, my heart pitter pattered wildly once again. It was silent for a long moment as Troy and I stared after him, not knowing what to say to each other. Urges to reach for his hand to fan me or to run a finger up the divot of his back surged through my veins. However, I suppressed the desire when he leaned towards me, whispering, "please don't ditch me" in my direction.

With a sigh, I shrugged my scalding shoulders, "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll pass out from the sun."

"We can pray." Snorting, Troy playfully tapped my elbow and made my heart stutter, "Come on, I'll race you to the top." He nodded down the shimmering light of the path with a boyish grin.

Damn soccer for making me so competitive, "You're on."

* * *

I soon discovered the hard way that in blistering heat and only trickles of water to drink, racing to the top of a bluff was not a stupid idea.

It was a _really _stupid idea.

The sun burned. This wasn't the kind of burn when a kid ignores his mother's request to lather himself with sunscreen. It was both bewildering and frightening. The pain scorched from two sides – double sided tape. My skin felt as though someone had flicked a lighter and watched my flesh blaze. It made me writhe upon my hands and knees. I could feel my body roll in agony, trying to simmer the flames, but I was immobilized by the pain.

The internal side of the tape, however, was far worse.

The pain wasn't red, like the one that stretched across my skin. This was black and merciless. I had absolutely no idea where the exact location of it started – all I knew was that it developed in my lower abdomen and pulsated within the rest of my body. My heart was racing; it was fighting to keep my thinning blood rushing through my veins. Every second that ticked away, I promised my body that this would be over eventually. And with every promise, my body snarled to rid this agony – it only hurt more.

"What do we do?"

The voice sounded like something I recognized, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly who it was. My knees were rocking to keep trying to spread the pain to other part of my body. I was alit, but I could feel tremors racing down my limbs. Immediately, my stomach began to pulsate and raced acid up my esophagus- scratching knives against the flesh that housed it. It wasn't until I caught the overwhelming stench of regurgitation that I realized I just puked.

"Shhh… Gabs… it's going to be okay."

My vision cleared ever so slightly and I was able to pick up on that voice. There was a hand sliding over the slippery surface of my back and another had collected my hair. Exhausted from my dry heaves, I rolled backwards into a stone surface and moaned. The pierce in my gut stabbed ruthlessly.

I took a few deep breaths before forcing my eyes to open. At first, all I could see was a blinding white light. Quite honestly, I thought I had died. The pearly gates were waiting for me, ready to state their judgment.

But then I realized this couldn't be heaven, because Troy's memory wasn't waiting to swoop me in his arms and he wasn't there to whisper how much he missed me in my ear.

Instead, once the limes and russets of the trees entered my vision once again, I heard the other Troy hum in my ear, "Gabs? Gabs, it's Troy. Can you hear me?"

I sighed, too dizzy to even attempt to look up into his face. But I felt the burn of his arms propping me up, which ached against my inflamed skin, but I was thankful. Had he not been seated on his knees behind me, I would have toppled over.

"I- It hurts." I moaned, fighting with the blackness that slithered around the backs of my eyelids.

"We need to call for help." Squinting through the pain, I saw Taylor pace desperately back and forth, glancing at me every so often to be sure I wasn't dead.

"Now how the fuck are we going to do that?" Chad's voice, booming in my ear due to his position crouched over me, snapped at Taylor, "We're on a fucking bluff! There's no fucking service here."

My head swiveled until it pressed against a hard, yet comforting, pillow. It took a long moment before I realized it was Troy's bicep, "I'm having an appendicitis." I hissed between my teeth, throwing my skull back to keep from crying out. The knife twisted – it felt like period cramps, only electrocuted with lightning.

After I could see colors again, I felt fingers – I couldn't be sure if they were Chad's or Troy's – run up and down my back, "You're not having an appendicitis… you're dehydrated." Troy assured me – I wasn't assured.

The pain seared, and I had no choice but to lean forward and squeeze my eyes shut again. Fearful that my organs would fall out, I clutched my abdomen and pulled myself into the tightest ball imaginable. With every jab, the memories of the past two hours came rushing back. I could faintly recall Troy and I shoving each other up the steep slopes until we were breathless and soaked. Had I been able to experience anything else apart from the excruciating rage within my stomach, I would have remembered the elated sensation once reaching the top of the bluff. The sun had been down onto my body as I had been exposed to the picturesque of the mountains glittering off the lake. It had suctioned the breath right out of my body – and apparently the water as well. On the descend, objects became blurred and the taste of sand grained in my mouth. I hadn't complained – never did I want to appear weak – as we trudged on. Somewhere in between then and now, my stomach had begun dull pulsations.

These were most certainly not dulled anymore.

"We need to get her to a hospital." Taylor panicked as I rolled back again, breathless.

"No, we need to get her water." Troy growled, lifting a grey fabric to wipe my mouth on. With the little energy I had, I turned my head away – I didn't need his charity. He sighed, defeated, and looked up at Taylor, "You two should hurry down and try to find a gas station or something. I can carry her."

"Bolton, are you fucking crazy?" Chad's voice was hard.

Behind my eyelids, I imagined sweat flying from the tips of his shag as he shook his head, "No. She needs water, fast. Sticking together is useless."

"Troy," Taylor was slightly hysterical as she whirled to him, "We can't leave you alone."

"I'll be fine. But if one of you two drop, you'll at least have the other to get you down safely."

Taylor and Chad looked at each other, hesitation flashing over their darkened eyes, "Maybe we could-"

"There's no time to argue." Troy hissed, dominant and empowered. Had I not been practically dying, I would have felt an overwhelming emotion of attraction at his control, "All you have to do is follow this trail back."

After a few seconds of silence, I felt a press of something soft against my forehead, "Hang in there, Gabs." Chad hummed and I forced my eyes to creak open. He was giving me a warm smile, but I could see the clouds of concern shimmer in his eyes. With a sharp glance at the person now crouched beside me, I saw a protective wall shoot up in front of his eyes, "Take care of her, man." He spoke as though Troy had never been at my side before.

"You'll be fine." Taylor lightly squeezed my arm – it was numb compared to the twist in my stomach.

I heard their murmurs as the crunch of their footsteps faded, but I couldn't exactly decipher what they were saying. However, I did notice that they were quick – the silence and the squawk of birds filled the atmosphere before I even realized they were gone.

Daringly, I opened my eyes again and was suddenly greeted with Troy's bangs dripping and his cheeks enflamed scarlet. For a brief moment, I felt guilty for receiving all the attention when he was just as hot as I was, but then my stomach panged again.

"What I can do?" He asked hurriedly and lowly. I didn't have an answer for him – everything hurt too badly.

"I-I don't… I don't know…" I stuttered, feeling vulnerable and weak. These were two emotions I wasn't used to when I was around him – the old Troy gave me strength, ignited feistiness from within.

Beneath my shivers, I felt his fingertips rub the side of my arms in a comforting manner. Leaning forward again to put pressure upon my throbbing abdomen, I braced myself for the inevitable crash to the ground. Thankfully, Troy's reflexes had been perfected by the countless basketball seasons. He braced my shoulders and held me upright. Through narrowed eyes, I could see his bare chest huffing. Had tears not been streaming down my face due to the pain, I would have found it incredibly erotic.

"Shhh… Gabs… we're gonna get you help."

Maybe the nickname that sounded like a sin on his lips snapped me into momentary numbness of my body or maybe I was so drained of water that the hysterics began to roar through my veins. My head snapped up, I could feel the wildness in my eyes as they locked his, with a curl on my lips.

"Help me up." I ordered, though it sounded more like a whine.

"Gabriella," he scolded, "Gabs – I'm going to carry you."

Although that sounded like an inviting offer, I shook my head forcefully and attempted to press my weight upon the balls of my feet, "No… I can…"

It was a good thing Troy was already prepared for disaster – he swiftly caught me when a wave of dizziness slammed through my skull. I cried out in agony when my face pressed against the sculpture of his chest. Before I could really understand what had occurred, I was suddenly lifted away from gravity. My stomach raged. Apparently it didn't like being caught so off guard, therefore the shifting positions made me scream.

"Don't do that again." he mumbled in my ear when my cries turned into pathetic whimpers, "Please, I need to get you out of here alive."

I suddenly noticed the desperation leaking through his voice – raw and pleading. It was a tone I hadn't heard in years. But he was begging; I knew it by the way his arms tightened around me with panic. The reaction could have brewed from the magnitude of the situation – that something could tragically happen to me upon this bluff – or it could have been something subconscious. Maybe, with my body cradled into his grasp, _my _Troy was clawing to surface – to tell me he was still alive and kicking and telling me to keep holding on. Maybe my Troy was jealous and wanted to me holding me instead of new Troy.

My thoughts were clouded due to my deliriousness.

"It… hurts." I whined. One hand was wound around his neck and the other was shoving down on my abdomen, forcing the pain to seep through my toes.

"Your muscles are cramping." At the information, I bit down on my lip to keep from echoing between the trees once again, "That's the stomach pain."

Between the traces of salt lingering in my sandpapered mouth, I tasted the bitter flavor of copper –blood, "I'm burning…"

"I've gotcha… just rest… don't waste your energy."

Had I been in the right state of mind, I wouldn't have pressed my cheek to his shoulder or tried to comfort myself with his body. We were chafing each other with the sweat that slicked between our skins, but it didn't matter. His footsteps were quick beneath me – he was obviously hurrying. I was thankful that the contents of my stomach were emptied, for puking all over his chest would have been mortifying.

No matter how hard he huffed, Troy pressed on with his jog. Occasionally, his feet slid and stumble down the steepness of the path and I was thankful I was barely holding onto consciousness, for I would have been terrified that he would have dropped me. I was too busy digging my nails into his wet flesh to notice. Every time the pain pierced more violently, I bit into his collarbone to keep from crying out. Had it hurt him, he didn't voice it. Instead, his jog would then turn into a sprint until he lost balance again and was forced to start over.

It felt like days, with the sun blistering on my face. Reality suddenly became white. I couldn't see Troy anymore when I creaked my eyes open. I could only see the bursting light that reflected off the trees. His increasing pants were my lullaby, tempting me towards unconsciousness.

"Gabs?" The angelic voice sounded faded within the brightness. I knew my eyes were closed and my mouth was hung open, but beyond that I couldn't feel my body anymore, "Gabriella! Gabs… hold on, _please_…we're almost there…"

I was fading. The darkness that began to close around me extinguished the fire in my abdomen. I wanted it to consume me; to have it swallow me would have been a blessing.

But the angel was begging me to hold on. And I didn't want to let it down.

Unable to make the choice, my body chose for me. With a snap of my head backwards, I fell into the black depths at the final call of, "_Gabriella_!"


	5. Broca's Area

"God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December."

~James Matthew Barrie~

* * *

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I sighed, bringing the plastic water bottle to my lips and shook my head, "No, it's not. Stop blaming yourself because it's getting annoying."

Even in the darkness, I watched the persistency that he carried on the opposite end of the couch. Instead of slouched, as I would have expected after a day of remaining out in the scorching sun for far too long, he sat erect; his body was turned towards me with his legs split. I tried my hardest not to blush – though it wasn't too difficult because, beneath the rosiness of my sunburn, I was as pale as freshly fallen snow – when I caught sight of the hemline running up the crotch of his black basketball shorts. Thankfully – or unthankfully, however you looked at it – he had chosen to dress himself with a wife beater that left little to the imagination.

Troy let out a breath and ran his fingers through his bangs. Taking a chunk of his hair and not even realizing the way he was peering at me made thank the sun gods that they had sucked all the liquids from my body, for he made the simplicity of a disarrayed look appear erotic.

"Yes it is." He snapped back. I honestly thought that he wanted to win the argument more than he wanted to prove to me that he had been the cause of my dehydration, "I pushed you to race me."

With a roll of my eyes, I pulled the blanket further up on my body. I couldn't tell if I was warm or cold – my skin burned but my organs were numbed. Therefore, I was dressed in a cami and shorts, but my favorite tie blanket was pulled to the tip of my chest. Moving ached; my stomach pain had all but disappeared, for every time I wiggled I felt an empty pang from within the walls.

"Pshh, please Bolton. I wasn't going to let you beat me." I teased, fighting the urge to kick his skin flirtatiously.

I don't really remember much about the rest of the afternoon after I passed out – which was ironic, sitting in front of a victim of amnesia. According to Troy, I was in a limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness for quite some time while he was hurrying me down the steep slope. Apparently, when he had finally reached Chad and Taylor at the bottom of the bluff juggling seven and a half water bottles, I had been responsive enough to allow them to tilt my head back and take steady sips. When it became too much and my abdomen raged in its endless fire once again, I had shoved the water away and curled into a ball again -puking.

Once I had returned to a stage that I could actually comprehend what was going on around me on the cabin couch, shielded from the sun, Troy told me he had forced water down my throat. He had stayed by my side ever since – I figured he felt guilty. Slowly, as the hours passed by of drinking bottle after bottle of Ice Mountain I began to regain my strength enough to walk to the kitchen to grab an apple to eat. Of course, my body rejected it at first, but I had finally managed to keep some fruit down since then.

Troy let out a chuckle that was not amused, "You wish."

Through the open window, a roar of hysterics exploded from outside. Both Troy and I shot our heads in the direction, watching the reflection of flames dance wildly across the floorboards. Chad's voice, distinct as it was, shouted a battle cry that rattled against the trees from outside. Along with the ache of my muscles, I felt guilt secrete through my stomach as I turned back towards Troy.

"You don't have to stay in here." I said softly, there was nothing more that I wanted than to keep me company, "You came to have a good time. Go get drunk with them, I don't care."

He smiled sadly at me, "You'd get bored."

I shrugged, "You could sneak me some shots of Bacardi."

"Yep, cuz rum and dehydration mix so well."

I frowned, knowing he was right, "I'll just sleep. Seriously Troy, you came to party, not hang out with me."

The words that slipped out of my mouth stung more than I expected them too. Had it been the summer three years ago, he wouldn't have left my side because he would have _wanted _to be with me. In fact, we sort of isolated ourselves from the rest of the world that summer. Of course, if there were parties we were invited to we would attend, but we moved almost like magnets – I'd push a strand of hair behind my ears and he would scratch the back of his neck. There had been no tearing us apart. But now? Now was different – it was like starting over, in a way. Yet, it felt natural to sit before him and converse. It was as though I knew him, but he was still foreign.

"And you say I'm being fucking annoying?" Troy growled with a shake of his head, "Montez, if I wanted to go get drunk with them, I'd do it. But they're all assholes so I'm staying inside with you."

I bit my lip teasingly, "So I'm not an asshole?"

He snorted, "Well you haven't done any assoholic things lately. But I'll keep my eye on you."

No matter what I said, I still felt guilty, keeping him cooped up inside while the rest of the gang was dancing around the bonfire. They had invited me, of course, but I had taken a rain check. My body still ached in places I didn't even know existed and my dull headache would have only increased had I had to listen to Sharpay whine anymore.

Troy looked up at me again, our eyes caught while I took a long swig of my water, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Stop it." I glared, "I'm perfectly capable of getting up myself." I didn't mention it panged every time I did so.

"Gabs, chill. I'm trying to be nice."

There was a prick poking into my heart every time he spoke the nickname that everyone else used for me. He had been calling me his own private nickname ever since he was ten. A part of me thought that he only used one because he was too lazy to say my full name. Of course, when he had been pissed at me, he used my birth name. But treading into the waters of my mother and father's "Ella" hadn't been in his taste – he said it was much too formal for him. "Gabs" had carried with my friends since I was little – I didn't know why, but it seemed to stick even before I moved to Albuquerque. But "Gabi" had been something only he spoke – the song of angels. I liked that it was only his, even before he made my heart stutter.

I must have cringed or crinkled my nose at the sound of it on his lips, for Troy raised his eyebrows curiously, "What?"

A blush flooded beneath my paleness as I turned away from him, unable to look at him as I felt the emptiness rush through me, "Nothing."

He suddenly looked annoyed.

"Seriously, what did I do now?"

"Nothing, okay?" I snapped, not wanting to go into the awkwardness of where this conversation could go, "why do you assume something's wrong?"

"You're not exactly a good actress."

It was curious that we hadn't even been on speaking terms for twenty-four hours, and he was already picking up recognitions about me. Of course, it could have just been my imagination, but I felt as though maybe he was familiar with my facial cues deep down. It gave me a spark of hope that my Troy was still thriving somewhere within.

"It's just-"

"Yeah?"

He was leaning forward now, his legs closed together again. I sighed and looked down at my hands that clutched my water bottle.

"You called me Gabs." I said softly, too embarrassed to speak over a whisper.

His dark eyebrows flew to the top of his head. Even in the poor lighting of the cabin, I could see them, "Everyone calls you Gabs, is that bad?"

I sort of wished my stomach would pierce again, so I wouldn't have to answer, "Um… not everyone did."

Long lines wrinkled across his forehead. For a brief moment he appeared confused by my words. The flush grew stronger, and I was certain that pink could be seen through the white of my cheeks by now. Then the light bulb apparently flicked on. At first, his eyes widened in realization. I had the urge to throw back my blanket and rush outside in pure mortification. But then I watched as his irises became ice. They suddenly penetrated through my face, more jagged that the muscle cramps earlier today.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He hissed, shaking his head at me with disgust.

I felt a slap of guilt, again, knowing that I should have just controlled my emotions better, "Look, you can just call me Gabs if you really want-"

"You know what I hate?" He cut me off, glaring mercilessly at me. I cowered into the back of the couch again, but remained silent, "When people fucking hide things about _him _to me."

Again, he spoke of my Troy. It sent a shiver raging down my spine and electrocuting every nerve ending that wrapped around my fingers. The familiar sensation I had experienced last night when he called me out for treating him differently pulsated from within. I felt as though my hand was snatched as I tried to pull the last cookie out of the jar.

"I didn't think it was important." My voice was as quiet as the pitter patters of a mouse.

"Yet you glared at me like I was a fucking murderer when I called you Gabs."

Touché.

As he turned away from me and put his elbows on his knees and stared into the darkness, lost, a war suddenly broke out into my head. My heart, which was usually like the idiotic general who wanted to shed the blood of as many enemies as possible, screamed at me to just tell him about that summer. He was obviously bothered by the fact that people treated him differently just because he had forgotten his entire childhood, so keeping something that had been so important to my Troy would have been an insult to his memory. But my brain, the intelligent lieutenant that looked at the battlefield from all angles and majored in advanced calculus, flashed the image of Troy's repulsion when Sharpay had stated they had hooked up in high school. I was certain that he would repeat that disgust if I told him my secret.

Correction: _our _secret.

"Gabi." I whispered, ignoring my Troy's ghost caressing my ear.

His head jutted towards me, enough so he could view me in his peripheral, "huh?"

"Gabi." I repeated, trying to keep my voice from trembling, "You used to call me Gabi."

He seemed to pounder the letters for a moment. I held my breath, which was probably stupid, given how sick I had gotten that day. Whatever, my wellbeing wasn't as important as hearing the verdict of whether he liked it or not.

Finally, he turned the full blaze of his eyes on me and gave me a half-smirk, "Gabby?"

I was suddenly yanked back into a different summer, a happier one. The living room faded around me and instead of leaning against the comforts of the couch, my side was starting to numb from lying in the cab of a rusty truck for three hours. I was completely nude, apart from the navy sheet that protected me from the rest of the world. My legs were entwined with another pair. The even sound of Troy's heartbeat pounding against my ear was intoxicating, but not quite as addictive as the way Troy purred my name in my ear. My eyes fluttered closed when I remembered how perfectly my breast had fit into his hand as he bit at my neck: "_Fuck, Gabi…" _sung in time with the chirp of the crickets.

And then I blinked, and I was back in the cabin with a much older – and much more attractive – Troy staring at me.

I nodded, "Gabi, With an i." I smiled sadly to myself, "You used to say the "b-y" shit made me sound like a bitch that wouldn't shut up."

"Gabi." He tested it on his lips again – it sounded musical. He grinned stupidly.

"Doable?" I asked.

There was a flicker in his eye that suddenly made the heat in my body – which was an obnoxious amount due to the hours in the sun – rose to my skin.

"That's an interesting word, isn't it?" He smirked wickedly, making my heart and other organs less innocent inflame with desire. Fortunately, the drainage of my fluids also drained my energy. I didn't have the strength to lift up and jump on top of him.

He didn't seem to be offended when I didn't respond. Instead, he rolled forward with sympathy grazing upon his cheeks. Both of his hands rested on either side of my sprawled feet, sending chills through my blood stream. For a brief moment, I thought he was going to crawl atop my body – as he was on his hands and knees. He didn't, of course. Instead, he just smiled softly; this in turn made my heart flutter even more.

"You look exhausted."

I lifted my shoulders but my head had already dropped back on my pillow, "It was a long day."

Tingles rippled up my body when he grabbed my left foot above the blanket and wiggled it, "Sleep, alright? I'll make sure the drunks are quiet when they come in."

"My hero." I whispered – for the sacrifice he was about to make and for saving me atop the bluff.

He gave my toes one final squeeze, "Night, Gabi."

I couldn't help but grin stupidly as he dismounted the couch and escaped to his appropriate bed setting.

Guess we were going to be roommates after all.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, I decided I needed to go for a run.

"Where the _fuck _do you think you're going?"

Well, maybe not.

Turning towards the kitchen table, I hooked my iPod into my shorts and took in the sight of two of the four inhabitants slumped over their cereal. However, with the light shining halos over the backs of their heads, all four of them were staring at me as though I just sprouted testicles. Except the one with the penetrating blue gaze that was narrowed upon me.

"Umm," I hesitated, slightly uncomfortable by the way they were scrutinizing me, "I'm going running?"

It was silent for a long and awkward moment. I wanted to just bolt out the door before any of them said anything that would change my mind. After being stuck on the couch for the entire day yesterday, it seemed only fair that I be able to enjoy peaceful company of the Colorado atmosphere around me. It was an idea that I had planned ever since my eyes flew open that morning to find Troy's couch emptied and the distinct smell of coffee wafting through the air once again. By the way they were all glaring at me, however, I doubted any of them would agree with me.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Chad, whose head was slouched against his palm, blinked at me.

"No…"

"Then you're trying to get yourself killed." Taylor injected, apparently just as positive about the idea Chad was. Instead of looking like death, she sat erect while buttering her toast.

"No, I just want to get outside…"

"Gabs, you were dehydrated yesterday. You could have died." Chad shook his head at me like a disapproving mother. I tried not to roll my eyes – I wouldn't have died.

Reflexively, my hands covered my abdomen to keep them from waiting for it to go into rapid spasms again, "Guys, seriously… it's fine. I feel great."

This wasn't a lie. I did feel a hundred and twelve percent better than I had even the night before: my stomach no longer ached and I sported color in my cheeks once again. Obviously, I understood the caution of my safety due to the scare we all had on the bluff yesterday, but this was different. I would be pacing myself and it was early enough in the morning that the sun wouldn't be scorching quite yet. I was way too athletic to sit on my ass for the entire time we were here – it made me unbearably antsy. I could thank my father's desire for me to be involved in sports at a young age. Although I couldn't kick my soccer ball around as I would have liked, I had decided a run was the second best option to keep from driving myself insane.

"Your body may not be rested yet." Zeke, who was seated beside Taylor, pointed out.

I was already tired of them treating me like a four year-old. My eyes flashed up towards the one person who _might _empathize – due to the past three years of people attempting to protect him. Troy watched my silent pleads, and I prayed that maybe my Troy would be able to read my cues and tell the new Troy what I was requesting.

"Please," I pleaded, though I really didn't know who I was begging, "I'll be careful."

Slowly, almost in slow motion, Troy pushed away his bowl of cereal, "I'll go with you."

Fuck.

It wasn't that I didn't want to spend every waking moment with him, because believe me, I did. What made me disappointed was: a) because the last time we raced I almost passed out and b) because I needed some time to clear him from my thoughts. After practically spending my entire time with him, I felt a pull toward him that I hadn't felt for anyone else. It scared me – I knew as soon as the trip ended, my heart would be shattered when we went our separate ways. But I couldn't help finding myself quickly becoming addicted to that smile once again or the twinkle in his eyes.

"Seriously, Troy, I'll be fine. I don't need a babysitter."

He rolled his eyes, "Gabi, shut up. I'm going with you.

The entire table froze.

At first, I was completely clueless as to why the shift of tension suddenly clouded between the air that separated them from me. Troy appeared just as perplexed as I was – his eyebrows were furrowed and his arms crossed. But Chad, Taylor, and Zeke were flushed white; their gazes upon me were ghostlike – almost as though I had resurrected the dead.

"Gabi?"

They all questioned at the same time, like some lame scene from a movie. Immediately, my eyes flew back to Troy. He was already staring at me, with his eyebrows touching the inside of his shag. I pleaded with every muscle in my body to keep from making me reveal too much – that the nickname had meant too much.

Cool as ocean waves, Troy simply shrugged, "We've been talking. She doesn't treat me like someone fucked me up in war."

Taylor's head whipped around and she narrowed her eyes on me, "Really?"

I sort of wanted to punch her then.

"I guess him saving me sort of made us bond." I tried to say as nonchalantly as I could. It was true though – had I not been cradled in his arms and on the brink of disaster, we probably would have not been as comfortable as we are now. Well I couldn't speak for him, but I was fairly content.

"Hold on a sec, I've gotta change." He said while rising from his seat. I couldn't help but stare hungrily at the way his wife beater rose up on his skinny, yet toned, abs as he threw his hands behind his head in a stretch.

"Troy, please… I don't need you to come." I begged. I wanted to be a big girl and not have a babysitter.

"Shut the hell up. I'm going, and I swear to God I will kick your ass if you leave without me."

He paced over to where his duffle bag rested at the head of the couch. Immediately, I noticed the yale blue and California yellow that so sifted through his clothing – Berkeley's famous colors. Slowly, my eyes shifted towards the table to see all of them were speaking lowly and intensely to each other. I smiled to myself – a perfect opportunity.

The tip of my sneaker pressed down upon the hardwood, waiting for the inevitable accusations to roar. Fortunately, all was silent. Wincing, I listened for any movement between the group and Troy. No one lashed out, so I took another prance towards the door. Each step was a pitter-patter, as soft as a gentle rain on a rooftop at midnight. Every inch closer towards the door, my heart raced with triumph. I suddenly got careless and cocky when I pushed open the screen door and was greeted with the aroma of outdoors and a burst of sunshine. Finally, I was successful…

"GABRIELLA MONTEZ!"

Or not.

Throwing my head back, my eyes widened with terror as I saw Troy bolt towards where I was standing – his eyes darkened with amusement and a feigned anger crossed his lips.

I suddenly had a choice: stand there and be run over or sprint away and infuriate him.

With a yelp, I sprinted into the clearing with my feet crunching against the gravel. Behind me, the door rattled when it slammed to a shut and I heard pounding down the steps to where I was desperately searching for an exit. The only way out was the stone path to the main road – what I was running towards.

Apparently Troy had gotten faster since that summer that we finally breached the line between best friends and something more; for before I could take another step forward, I felt two arms encircle my bare torso and yank me backwards into his chest. Fireworks exploded through my veins as he crushed me to him and lifted me off the ground.

I giggled and kicked wildly, trying desperately for him to release me but never wanting him to let me go, "Troy Alexander!" I screamed.

He didn't seem to be listening. Instead, he spun me around as in my struggles – most likely an attempt to make me dizzy, "I told you to listen, dammit!"

Never had I been more elated to not follow directions as I was then. Every inch of my skin suddenly felt like rubber when I realized this was the closest I had been to him in three years: his chest against my back, my hands lacing between the divisions of his, my butt so close to the most intimate regions of his body. Every nerve inside me was electrocuted with familiarity and pure desire. It was like wiggling back into a favorite pair of jeans – at first they're stiff, but after a few seconds, they snug to the curves of my body perfectly.

I couldn't help from fluttering my eyes closed when his slightly scruffy cheek rubbed against my temple. Hopefully he hadn't noticed how my grip tightened on his as they were pressed against my stomach. It could have been my imagination, but I swore he breathed my hair in deeply.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He mumbled in a voice that was his, yet wasn't. But I knew it so well. It was passionate and husky with a sprinkle of desire.

It sounded like _my _Troy.

I let our bodies remain as one for a second longer than I should have, before reality dawned once again. Sighing, I turned around and stepped out of his arms – my eyes wide with surprise. He seemed to realize how little space had been between us at the same time that I did. Immediately, his hand rushed to the back of his neck to scratch awkwardly.

"I just…"

"Sorry…"

"Maybe you should…"

He dropped his hand and ran it down the side of his basketball shorts. It was then that I noticed his feet were bare apart from the sticks and dirt that had collected on the soles. He must have noticed that I had gone missing midway between heading towards the bathroom to get undressed.

"Can you like, please sit still for five minutes?" Troy asked while staring at me with pleading eyes. I was taken aback by his desperation given the pettiness of the situation.

Blowing out of the side of my mouth so my bangs flew upwards, I softly said, "Troy, please. I'm not a child. I can go on a run without dying, I promise."

I didn't recognize the flicker of his mouth in disappointment until he took a step towards me again, making it difficult to breathe, "Look, it's not that alright? I know you're not going to kill yourself again. I just-"

"What?"

A spark ignited when our eyes met, "I guess I just like hanging with you."

My heart was suddenly engaging in a wild fiesta. Unlike my usually confident demeanor, I felt the familiar blush race to my cheeks. He seemed more mortified than I did, however. His hand had once again dove into the long fibers of hair that swooped over his eyes. The part of me that wasn't throwing a wild rave was fighting to keep my giggles under control. My sixteen year-old self was urging me forward, to throw my arms around him and slam my lips against his. Of course, I didn't, but I couldn't help but grin stupidly.

"It's because I'm not an asshole, right?" I teased, attempting to control my voice from shaking.

With a wicked smirk, he shrugged, "That might have something to do with it."

Letting out a final breath, I crossed my arms and pretended to be as dramatic as humanly possible, "Well then I _guess _us non-assholes should stick together, huh?"

"Pshhh, obviously." His face was elated and childish as he looked at me.

With a bite of my lip, I nodded towards the cabin, "Go change. I'm won't escape this time. But if you take longer than five minutes, I can't make any promises."

I had never seen anyone run as fast as Troy did as he sprinted back into the cabin.


	6. Prefrontal Cortex

**A/N: I seriously can't thank you guys enough for the support and the response I've gotten for this story - it's far beyond anything I had ever anticipated. I know I'm uploading quickly, and I hope that's not a problem, but it really means so much to me that you guys take the time to let me know what you think. I can never thank you enough.**

* * *

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams."

~Jeremy Irons~

* * *

"Would you two move? I want to lay out."

Lifting a hand to shield my eyes from the sun, I spit the ends of Sharpay's obnoxiously long hair out of my mouth as she leaned over me with irritation scarring the sharp edges of her face.

"What does it look like we're doing?" I shot back, feeling the unsteady rocks of the floorboards beneath me. Vibrations from the motor of the boat trembled against my bare back and caused the flaps of the book I had currently set down to rumble with life. It was all but uncomfortable, however. Unlike Sharpay, who was suddenly frowning because a splash of lake water sprinkled over our almost-nude bodies, I didn't mind the past hour that we had been cruising along the lake that was nestled between the two large bluffs. I had avoided looking at the steep slope that I had gotten dehydrated on two days ago, naturally.

"It _looks _like you two are in my way." Sharpay hissed. As much as I desperately wanted to ignore her, my eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the diamonds that exploded their own sunbeams in the natural light adorning her string bikini – pink, of course. Did this girl own any other colors?

This time, it was Taylor to roll her eyes beneath her sunglasses and flapped her book to her thighs with irritation, "We've been here for the past twenty minutes Sharpay. There might be room in the back by Zeke."

Glaring ruthlessly at the stern, she popped her hip out and tapped her manicured nails against her skinny stomach, "Daddy's yacht is about seven times this size."

"Good for Daddy." The sound of Chad's voice made me smile. I arched my spine in order to watch him leap from the box that controlled the boat and land upon the slippery surface was a soft "thud". He was shirtless, obviously, with his swim trunks a neon pattern as he strutted by me. It was a contrast to his dark skin that would have been easy to spot had he fallen overboard, "But you're on my boat, not Daddy's, so can it and find a spot to get skin cancer."

I giggled at his annoyance and the way she frumped and stalked away. With a bright grin, he winked down at me before flopping onto the bench. Playfully, his foot nudged against my thigh. I swatted his toes in response.

The boat wasn't as small as Sharpay made it seem – it was actually the biggest boat that I had been on, although I didn't have many to compare it to. Although it belonged to the Danforth's, Zeke was the one standing behind the wheel with a baseball cap twisted around and a bright beam on his face. Apparently he had a license for the waters and Chad hadn't given up an opportunity to be lazy instead of driving it.

"I hope you know that someday karma's going to bite you in the ass for inviting her." I commented and settled back upon my beach towel once again. Behind my eyelids was a blazing red light, but the rays felt good upon my skin, "Just think of how perfect this vacation would have been if she had stayed home."

I felt another teasing kick into my side, jiggling the bellybutton ring that lay upon my abdomen, "Fuck off, Montez… I'm making your life fun."

"No," Taylor turned towards him and peered over the top of her novel, "you're making our lives difficult."

Chad gave me a look that was both pleading and annoying. Sighing, I felt sorry for both of their awkwardness. Obviously, Chad had hooked up with other girls since he dated Taylor and in return, Taylor had gone out with other guys as well. I was certain that they had slipped from each other's minds, but with the break up still fresh due to not seeing each other on a constant basis afterwards, there was an underlying awkwardness that wouldn't go away.

Taylor was squinting into her book, though I could tell she was doing everything in her power not to look at Chad. Uncomfortably, my eyes scanned around the area until they landed on a single figure with his legs dangling off the edge of the boat. His hands were holding a bottle of beer and his sunglasses – the ones that I hadn't stolen – were pressed up to shield his eyes from the reflection off the water.

I smiled, feeling the rise on my cheeks once again as I rolled onto my knees.

"Save my spot." I hissed towards Chad, ignoring his suddenly stunned expression, "I don't want Sharpay to snag it."

"Gabs…"

"I'll be back."

My steps were hurried as I approached, not caring that I wasn't being very flirtatious or sneaky about it. I could have left a swagger as I walked, trying to tease him while only remaining in my string bikini. However, that wasn't me, so I decided to plop down beside him and watch as a slow, closed mouth grin grew on his cheeks. He didn't look at me, but inched towards me, nonetheless.

"Hey!" I greeted happily, swinging my legs over the slippery edge as well and let them wiggle against the glassy surface of the water below.

"Someone's chipper." Troy smirked and tilted his head back to indulge in a long sip of his beer. I couldn't help but admire the way his bare abs rolled as he did so or how the golden chain around his neck glinted in the sunlight and fell between his pecs.

"Sorry?" I raised my eyebrows as he leaned backwards. His palms rested upon the surface of the boat with the bottle resting within the curve of his forefinger and his thumb.

Shaking his head, he finally turned towards me, "Nah, it's cute."

I would have blushed, had he not been dropping sweet little things like this since we went for our run two days ago. Obviously, I knew I was playing with fire by not hiding from the pain that would inevitably come, as I should have been doing. These two weeks were nothing more but a vacation with friends, I knew this. But I couldn't help but remember the way he looked at me beneath the stars and feel that similar sensation rush through my veins. I loved _my_ Troy, and to get a tiny taste of him once again was intoxicating. Plus, I was certain that he was still kicking down there – it was my job to try to retrieve him. I knew it.

Looking down, I couldn't help but smile at the reflection of the two of us rocking through the water, "It's so beautiful." I commented, not sure if I was talking about the lake or the picture of us side by side.

He gave me a half smirk before circling his foot around, "It's too murky for me."

I quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean?

With a shrug – and a nudge closer to me- he gazed back down into the even chops against the side of the boat, "You can just see the surface, you know?" The thick frame of lashes fluttered to a close; a rawness of his escape from reality could be seen through the smoothed lines erased from his face. He was untouched, childish, in a meditated state as he continued, "There are hundreds of fish down there, but they're forgotten. You'd never know they're there unless you've taken the plunge."

His toe flexed and attempted to dip down to break the glass surface. Tensing, I immediately grabbed onto his bicep to keep him from falling into the unknown, but he simply chuckled at my pathetic attempt at a rescue. A nuzzle from his forehead to my temple and a grip of my hand later, I felt my heart skip at beat as he smiled softly against me.

"Relax Gab," he whispered an alteration to my nickname he had thrown out every so often. A breath caught in my throat when he suddenly ran his fingertips down the side of my thigh, squeezed between his to keep from anyone else seeing it, "I'm not going anywhere."

I wanted him to promise me that, but I was too busy feeling tingles ripple up my spine through his even strokes. There was something secretive about the way he was touching me – which, I should mention, was the very first time he had engaged in a motion so suggestive. The last time he had his skin connected with mine this way, I was naked and in his grasp – forever belonged to him.

And this petrified me – I couldn't be hurt again.

"Sorry." I mumbled, embarrassed, as I quickly let go of his arm and steadied my hands on my kneecaps. My thighs suddenly felt miles long with each tickle of his forefinger. Every time he dipped further towards my feet, he crept higher towards my hip. I tried not to let my eyes roll backwards in longing.

"For what?" He asked innocently, not even swiveling his head to look at me.

"Um… nothing." I quickly turned back towards the lake and let out a sigh of both disappointment and relief when he removed his hand from the little space between our legs.

I shouldn't have underestimated the sex appeal of Troy Bolton.

The division between us completely disappeared as he scooted, subtly, towards me. I held my breath for thirty seconds when the white, blue, and black plaid swim trunks rubbed against my shaven leg. It was a simple touch – quiet innocent on the outside, but once the walls were breached, seduction pulsated from within.

The thoughts of why I was putting myself through this suddenly were wiped clean when I leaned backwards and bumped into a fleshy brick. It took a long moment before I realized I was leaning back against Troy's triceps. Letting out a breath in frustration, my brain screamed at me to lean forward and away from the way his skin felt sliding against mine. Of course, my heart kept me glued to my spot – it was far more comfortable anyways.

"Why do you drink?" I asked candidly while he brought the amber bottle up to his lips. Finally, he peered over his sunglasses with an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

I shrugged, assuming the question had been fairly obvious, "You're drinking. I just thought… maybe, you know – you'd stay sober after…"

It took him a long moment before the gears finally clicked.

I expected him to turn angry, but instead he merely sighed and inched his hand closer to my butt. The part of me that wasn't hanging onto every word he said was frozen when his thumb brushed up against a not so innocent spot on my body. Immediately, a fire from my ass shot directly towards that pesky organ between my legs.

"After getting hit by a drunk and losing my memory?" He watched me closely as I reflexively turned away, trying to get rid of the image of his blood pooling down the corners of his face in the hospital. It burned with the tears behind my eyes and the momentary rush of guilt, "Nah…"

I swallowed thickly, "I just thought – you know…"

I froze as his palm delicately curved around my hip, his fingers grazing across the curve, "Will I get behind the wheel? No, never. But I'm not gonna let fear stop me from the _pleasures_," his hand dipped so low I almost moaned, "in life."

"Troy-…"

"Yes?" He breathed in my ear – hot and inviting.

My face was suddenly inches from his. I don't know how it happened, but I could taste his warm breath as I opened my mouth stupidly, frantically searching for something to say. I could see his eyes darting between my lips and my gaze beneath the shadow of his aviators. Tightening against my skin, his hand clutched my waist. Slowly, the world around me began to fade and I was awoken back to a time of his fingers between mine and his eye twinkling like a morning star. I lingered for a long moment, anticipating for my Troy to twirl his digits around my curls and pull me close for a kiss…

And then I remembered this wasn't my Troy.

Panicked, I immediately pulled back. With luck not in my favor, I just so happened to retreat when the bow crashed into a ripple of a wave. Shocked by my hesitation, Troy didn't have the immediate reflexes to clutch me tight enough before the lake water splashed into my face – cold and bitter. I didn't have time to claw for rescue when my wet bottoms slipped and drew me in, causing me to slide off the deck.

"GABI!"

I was suddenly freezing and soaked. The world around me was a mud brown, slithering over my skin like a serpent. It was cold too, wiggling through the protection of my pores and seeping into my bones. My initial reaction was to thrash around; I had no idea where I was in the world beneath the surface and that sent panic racing through my body. Water rushed through my ears, deafening me to all other sounds. I knew it was pointless to attempt to hold onto anything – so I kicked and struggled in this underwater world.

And best of all, everything smelled like fish.

Knowing I had no other option, I turned my head upwards. My vision was cloudy, but I could see a beaming white light blind from above. Weighing my options of treading through the aquatic lake life and receiving oxygen once again, I felt a gentle rock of my body from the pressure that suctioned around me. My lungs clenched tighter and I decided I couldn't stay without breathing any longer.

With a strong kick of my legs, like an aquatic frog, my head broke through the surface. Water spilled down my face with speed and blinded me, but didn't quite mask the other senses. The faint hum of jet skis and speedboats replaced the emptiness of the water. My tiny chest heaved in synchronization with the way I was pushing water away with my arms. I had to squint through the droplets that crystallized on my eyelashes as I whirled around to find where my boat had gone to.

"There she is!"

I didn't have to look for long.

Behind me, I could see the gang minus Sharpay hovered over the edge of the boat – their heads on a swivel.. Zeke's hand was pointed in my direction – I assumed he had been the one to spot me – with wide and frightened eyes. Taylor clutched desperately onto Chad's arm and Jason was looking in the opposite direction. Of course, I saved Troy's worried forehead for last, watching with his sunglasses removed.

"Gabs! You alright?" Chad called after catching an awkward exchange with Taylor, who had immediately released his arm.

Kicking in the direction of my friends, I treaded through the waxy feel of the lake, "Fine!" I yelled back, swallowing a mouthful of lake water in the process. It tasted like dirt with a hint of tang – I tried not to gag. It wasn't a long swim to reach the edge of the boat, just annoying since I was sure the fish were going to bite off my toes soon.

Finally, I placed my hands onto the rough surface of the boat. The lake water oozed down the side of my face like slime.

"Stupid… lake…" I grumbled while trying to figure out how I was going to use the little strength in my arms to push myself upwards.

Something grabbed onto my elbow and I immediately snapped my dirty coils up to see that Troy was gripping onto my forearm with a charming smile. My heart suddenly felt like butter sliding through my ribs.

"Maybe you should have been paying attention." Troy smirked wickedly. The butter suddenly hardened to ice as I watched the amusement etch itself onto his face. He was mocking me.

Oh fuck him.

Troy had little time to react when my hand holding his yanked downwards. Caught by surprise, his eyes widened as gravity pulled at his body. I immediately dove out of the way when he crashed head first into the depths of the water. The white caps surrounded me - tugging and pulling to try and rip me in half. I couldn't stop giggling, no matter how much water began to lap into my mouth.

It took a second to sink in, however, that the gang above me was not laughing. Chad's face was paled and Taylor's eyes were widened – her hand found his bicep again. I didn't understand what the problem was, until I realized it was quiet – eerily quiet. A sudden brick slammed into my stomach in terror as I twirled around to find myself in company with only the steady rocking of the water. With a sweeping intensity, panic suddenly washed over my skin with every trickle of slime down my back. It had been far too long since Troy had disappeared within the murk – he should have surface for a breath by now.

"Troy?" I called, my heartbeat stuttering in the cold, "TROY!"

I was frantic, splashing about to fight to find any inch of chestnut hair or bronze skin. Nothing. I was alone.

Until I suddenly felt a tug on my foot and I was pulled beneath the surface with a piercing scream.

It was cold again, but this time, my body was alit and pulsating with heat. The lake water frosted against my eyes; however, I couldn't bring myself to close them. Not when I could admire the way Troy's hair perfectly raised off his face like a windswept model or the way his gold chain suspended in time. He was floating with grace - an angel in the dark.

Strong as ever, his arm looped beneath my armpits as he began to kick upwards. Spellbound, I had no choice but to follow his lead and press my head against the ripple of his abs.

We broke the surface and gasped for air in harmony. His hand had now slipped to the divot of my back, palm spread so his pinky oh-so-subtly dipped beneath the hem of my bottoms, but not far enough to be probing. The boat was nowhere in sight – or maybe it was, I was too busy watching the water drip down the side of Troy's face to notice. Our feet weaved together as we treaded the surface. I fought to keep a float by rushing the water away with my hands; Troy skillfully remained buoyant by only using one.

"That was mean." He chuckled; obviously not offended that he was completely soaked now.

I shrugged, only making his pinkie dip further. Bad move.

"You made fun of me."

Slowly, his hand brushed higher so it rested on the tie of my suit, "You made it too easy."

"BOLTON! MONTEZ!"

Our heads turned in synch, noticing that the boat was a good fifteen feet away from where we were swimming. By now, the frowns had flipped upside down to laughter as they pointed at us, mocking the way we now smelled like trout. I sighed and turned back to him – he had already been looking at me with another evil smirk.

"We should head back, huh?" A stroke down my spine induced a tremble.

I simply nodded and wiggled out of his grasp, closing my eyes and realizing how suicidal our exchange had just been. My pulse was racing – never had I imagined Troy and I acting the way we were. This was dangerous, lethal. I couldn't subject myself to this heartbreak again.

"Gabi?"

Like a siren's call, I cranked my head around, "huh?"

"My name sounds best when you scream it." He purred huskily as he swam next to me, his voice as smooth as the glassy surface and just as deadly.

* * *

"Gabriella, you're playing with fire."

I didn't need Taylor to tell me that as I leaned forward to adjust the straps of my black bra in front of the mirror – I already knew it. It was obvious by the way my bones felt like mush and my stomach's butterflies were injected with steroids and batting around my organs.

"Actually, I'm trying to put mascara on at the moment." I teased. With shaking hands, my fingers fumbled to lift the tube to my eyelashes, "But you're close."

Taylor rolled her eyes with annoyance at my sarcasm, "Gabriella… stop it. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I tried not to listen to her – she was feeding me what the rest of my mind was already warning me of. Instead, I merely batted my lashes into the mirror – which, I might add, wasn't very large in the tiny cram of the bathroom. Every time I lifted to see how well my purple zip up matched with my grey tank top and jean shorts, I seemed to ram into Taylor's elbow or knock my foot against the toilet to the right. The sun was setting through the little square that sufficed as a window feet above the little shower that sat just behind us, which also made maneuvering difficult.

"What do you want me to say, Taylor?" I sighed as I turned to her, hoping the brown in my eyes would pop with the thin rim of black lining them.

She let out a breath and turned towards me. Her hip nudged up against the sink and her arms immediately crossed in an authoritative way. I suddenly received the impression that she was about to scold me for staying out too late or getting a C on my report card. It made me feel both uncomfortable and guilty at the same time- I had the urge to scurry my brain for an excuse. However, I knew I shouldn't have felt this way: if there was nothing to be guilty over, I shouldn't have the pangs raging through my stomach as I was now.

"Maybe explain why I haven't been able to get you alone in the past three days because Troy Bolton has suddenly been attached at your hip?" She quirked a dark eyebrow.

My reflexive nature – the one that made itself apparent due to the feistiness of Troy and I when he had his memory – was to shake my head bitterly and turn back to the mirror with a pout of my glossed lips, "I thought you said you wanted me to bond with him?"

"I do. But the way you bond with Jason and Zeke and the rest of us." She said and closed her eyes, almost as though regretting what she was about to use as ammo, "Gabriella, I saw you two on the boat today."

Immediately, my head turned away with a blush rushing to my cheeks, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Of course I knew what she was talking about. The little distance between us as our heads hung in the air – our lips merely inches apart from one another. It was the caress of his fingers against my thigh and the way his thumb had crept towards a private zone of by body. Goosebumps ran over my skin at the memory, though I tried to keep them a secret. By the way she was glaring at me, I didn't want to reveal the way – even after three years – he still made my heart skip a beat every time he smiled at me or brushed his hand against mine. I knew _my _Troy was in there somewhere, it was just nice to see glimmers of him every so often.

And it gave me hope he wasn't quite lost yet.

"You don't even know him."

The words cut deeper into my skin than then had intended to be. I bit my lip, trying desperately not to think of how true they were.

I didn't know him – I only knew who he _was_. I knew the sixteen year-old who used to wrap the both of us up in a blanket and kiss my neck while I pointed at the stars, whining about how I needed to shut up so he could remove my blouse without any casualties. I knew the boy who had first held my hand after the second week we had been introduced when he guided me up his tree house, promising me that his dad and him had built it sturdy enough so it wouldn't topple beneath our weight. I knew my best friend; the one who had hid me in his closet when I got a D on my math test in sixth grade and the one who promised me nothing would change when we first kissed in the seats of his beaten up truck.

I didn't know this new Troy. He was foreign: someone who I hadn't explored but hung onto every word he spoke as a truth. It was possible that he was someone entirely different than who I grew up with and I was only bringing out the best of his personality. I had absolutely no idea if he had contracted herpes in the past three years – I wouldn't put it past him, given that he had been so quick to pull out his moves on me today. It was obvious he had had sex since we last slept together, for the comment to Sharpay and his viewing of vaginas made this obvious. But how often? Did he do drugs as well? Was he a nerd?

Did he have a girlfriend and he was just trying to get ass?

I didn't know – it scared me.

"I know." I whispered, my hand bracing the sink.

"What do you know?"

The sudden male voice that filled the cracks of the bathroom made me jump. Taylor looked just as surprised – though for different reasons – when Chad's head popped from behind her bare shoulders. His afro had been released from its prison in a ponytail and fluffed around his head.

"Nothing." Taylor immediately responded, her eyes tearing away from him.

With a roll of my eyes, I turned towards him. Apparently my vulnerability had disappeared.

"Taylor thinks I'm getting too close to Troy, but she told me days ago that I should get the stick out of my ass and start talking to him because he's the same guy."

She glared at me, which made me smile triumphantly. Payback's a bitch.

"Awe, lay off McKessie," Chad winked at me, "They haven't seen each other in three years."

She ignored him and looked at me again, "I just don't want to see you get hurt again, you scared all of us."

I shuddered at the sudden memory that swarmed through my mind. Actually, I couldn't even count it as a memory because it was more like a suppression of my life. Now, it sounds stupid to say that I had gone through a period where I trudged about my days in a zombie state. It was for three months after the accident – one of them I spent at Troy's side in the hospital as he remained immovable in his coma. And then when he left, he had taken my heart with him. Despite my friend's efforts, I had skipped my homecoming that fall to sit with the phone in my hands debating whether or not I should dial the number I knew so well. I had completed my work and aced all my tests because I wasn't going out anymore. I stayed in and did homework to keep me from thinking – my mind had been the enemy back then.

It had been Chad who had kidnapped me and reintroduced me to the world once again. It was a simple bowling experience with our closest friends. The happiness of being around my peers had snapped me from my zombie state. I was forever grateful he kept me from going into complete isolation.

Chad simply shrugged like it was no big deal, "I'm pretty sure the guy isn't going to lose his memory again anytime soon. She's not glass."

"She's my friend, and she doesn't know what Troy's been doing in three years – or all the girls he's been doing. Maybe you should start looking out for her instead of him."

Obviously growing irritated, Chad rolled his eyes and looked at me, "She's exaggerating. He doesn't sleep around."

I couldn't help the sigh of relief that released from my throat.

"But he's slept with other girls, Danforth. And you've cheered him on the whole time." Taylor hissed, her hands gripping tightly against the counter until her fingernails turned white.

This made my stomach drop again.

"It's called college, sweetheart. Maybe if you got the stick out of your ass…"

"_Enough!_" I yelled, much more forcefully than I intended, "Would you two just fucking stop fighting for five minutes?"

Both suddenly drew guilty expressions over their faces as my chest huffed unevenly. Taylor crossed her arms again and looked away awkwardly while Chad sent me an apologetic glace, "Gabs…"

"Look," I interrupted, "Taylor's right. I don't know what the fuck Troy's been doing in the past three years and I really don't care," this was a lie I needed to convince myself was true, "but I want to be friends with him, _only _that. We were best friends, I'm tired of just ignoring that."

I was breathing harder than I intended to be. Neither made a movement for a long moment, most likely waiting for another outburst to snap again. Their irises gravitated towards each other, looking both longingly and with concern. Finally, after about a minute, Chad shook himself from his immobility and took a careful step – afraid I might lash upon him. When he decided it was safe, he cautiously looped his arm around my shoulders and hugged me tightly to his chest. I couldn't help but encircle my own around his torso, making Taylor's eyes flash once again with envy.

"You do whatever you want with him, alright? Have fun, you've deserved it. Just don't forget to use protection." He snickered. Immediately, my eyes engorged with shock at the candidness of his statement.

"Chad, I'm not going to sleep with him…"

With a wink, he released me and walked towards the door once again, "Whatever you say, Montez."

"I will not sleep with Troy Bolton." I promised both him and myself, fighting the sixteen year-old that punished me for this statement with a ripple of desire at the memory of his hands running down my chest.

"You said that three summers ago, and look where that got you." A blush rushed to my face as he gave a mocking wave, "Meet you guys by the fire."

As soon as he was gone, Taylor turned to me and spoke the words that were growling through my head, "Damn him."

* * *

While I had spent the next hour trying to convince myself that Troy and I could be just friends, he was subtly telling me that he had other ideas.

"Ugh, you guys all suck." Sharpay whined across the pit with a scowl upon her face. She was holding a bottle up and wiggling it into the air to increase the temptation of the liquor, "Danforth, come here and take shots with me!"

"Make her shut up." I heard a deep growl in my ear and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the way my heart fluttered at the voice.

"Sharpay… none of us are drinking tonight. Put the bottle down." Chad, who was seated on the ground in a kitty corner angle away from the blanket I was sharing, rubbed his forehead with pure annoyance and irritation. Even though I could only see the highlights of his face due to the darkness that surrounded the circle that drew a perimeter around the fire, I could only imagine the way his body would be rigid and his eyes as black as the night sky. Served him right – I hoped he was being punished for his idiocy.

After taking the time to glare at each of us who didn't even bother to return her scrutiny, she carelessly dropped the tequila into the earth. I cringed, expecting it to shatter, but was pleasantly relieved when the leaves and brush cushioned the fall and kept it from spraying glass and alcohol everywhere.

"Cold?" The voice behind me sung with perfection before I felt a tug of a violet blanket tug beneath me. I felt a sharp intake of breath rush through my throat before a hand rested a pinkie's distance beside mine on the torn sheet that provided protection from the ground.

My head turned; it was enough to view his gray sweatshirt without completely cranking my vision around, "I'm fine." I promised, immediately jutting my head back towards the fire.

We weren't touching, which might have been even more excruciating than had we been entwined. But I could feel his warm breath whisper down the back of my neck. Without placing his arms around me, he had magically managed to encage me into his personal space by sitting upon his right hip. His shoulder curved around slightly to pull me into his bubble without contact and his left foot pressed upon the ground so it was popped. I, being more protective of my heart than he, had both palms squeezing against the earth with my weight upon them and my legs curled up into my chest. It wasn't the most comfortable, but had I moved even an inch, I would have nudged some part of him and ignited a fire stronger that the roar before us.

I could feel Taylor, who was seated directly across from Chad and platonically sharing a blanket with Zeke, drilling daggers into the side of my face. Not daring to look at her nor turning my head too far away in case I was to bump Troy's cheek, I forced myself to watch the shimmers of tangerines and sunburst exploded within the campfire.

"You're quiet tonight." Troy commented softly enough that only I would be able to hear it.

"It was a long day." I matched his volume and fought the urge to lean back into his chest – I wondered if he wanted me to.

Chuckling in his remembrance, I felt the tension between us tighten with a shift of movement from behind, "You don't smell like lake anymore."

My entire body burst into flames when his hand disappeared from my side and suddenly combed through the top of my scalp. His fingers delicately flew through the gentle bumps of my black waves. His nose was in my hair; I could hear his gentle inhale through his nostrils as he reached the tips of my curls and began to make his journey down the side of my arm.

This, I realized through my terror, was the perfect opportunity to tell him I only wanted friendly contact. I could so simply slap his hand away from trailing down my forearm and it would be the end of the confusion.

Every time I tried to open my mouth, my heart clamped it shut. And by the time I had finally built up the rejection, his fingers had slipped through the divisions of mine and squeezed tightly.

I knew right then that I didn't have the strength to tell him this was wrong, even if it was.

I knew right then that I didn't want to have that strength either.

Whether I wanted it or not, I had just given Troy the green light for physical contact beyond friendship.

My body suddenly collapsed under the tension – both emotionally and physically. Troy immediately noticed and swarmed; he pushed our laced fingers towards my abdomen and kept me from crumpling to the ground. Acrobatically, he swung his leg around so I was nestled in the V of his legs – still protected by the blanket. I could feel his other hand lace with mine as well and rest on my hips. My back was to his chest and he looked through the window of my shoulder at the fire. It was suddenly so much harder, yet so much easier, to breathe.

I giggled at his speed in bringing me so close – subtle Bolton, real subtle. I knew I shouldn't have expected anything less; he had always been an all or nothing kind of guy.

"Ugh, well this is so boring, can we like do something?" Sharpay frowned and crossed her arms into his chest. I couldn't help but scan the circle to see if anyone had given a reaction to our shift of position. Maybe it was because the blanket was covering our molded bodies or maybe it was just that everyone was too exhausted to care, but no one was watching us.

"It's not our job to entertain you, Sharpay." Taylor glared over the fire towards a certain ex of hers, "maybe someone should have told you that before he so graciously invited you."

"Here we go." Troy mumbled in my ear. His thumb, as it was still weaved with mine, ran a slow circle over the smooth surface of my leg.

"If they spill blood, I'm making you clean it up." I teased, feeling his chest rumble in a chuckle behind me and his chin rest atop my head. Feeling like a grade schooler who was holding hands with third grade heartthrob, I couldn't help but suddenly receive the sensation of floating.

"That's not nice." His voice vibrated against my neck when he slipped his head down there once again.

His fingers flexed between mine, stretching as they ran down my upper thighs against my jean shorts. The warning bells were going off in my head, reminding me how shattered my heart would be like when my Troy disappeared.

"Troy…" I whimpered, attempting to voice my protests and keep from anything more continuing. Obviously, I failed.

I heard him swallow and imagined him lick his lips, "That sounds so good on your lips."

He was bringing out the big guns of his seduction: the possessiveness of our position, the huskiness of his tone, and the way his fingers danced so dangerously close to an off-limits region of my body. I knew all of these techniques; _my _Troy had revealed them in the best of times.

"Troy." I stated more firmly this time, completely oblivious to Taylor standing and pointing at Chad with aggression. He was on his feet as well, profanities falling from his lips. Troy and I didn't even wince when the screaming began. We were too lost in our own world when I turned around to meet his stare.

His eyebrows furrowed at the sullenness of my face, "Hmmm?"

I took a deep breath and felt his arms wrap around my stomach tightly, still connected by our fingers, "I- I don't- Troy this isn't-"

"This isn't what?" He asked, though I could see the panic begin to etch over his face.

The mixture of Taylor and Chad's stomps and screeches were unheard when I dropped my head. His hands began to knead against mine, coxing me to make my confession. I knew I had to – it was the only way I would be able to walk away from this vacation with some sort of a beating heart left. But the way he was holding me: the touches and caresses and squeezes were all so addicting that I would have been stupid to cast this opportunity away. The chance to retrieve my Troy from the depths of this Troy's body was too good to waste.

But my broken heart pierced against my ribs, reminding me of the pain once he left.

Finally, I found the strength to yank my hands from his and roll forwards onto my knees. There was a flash of agony and hurt that exploded in the emerald glow of his eyes – a reaction to the mixture of cyan against the reflection of the flames. He didn't try to stop me, but his expression almost made me freeze and collapse into his arms again.

"This isn't right, Troy." I chewed on my bottom lip, knowing how completely wrong it sounded as I spoke, "I'll see you inside."

With that, I trembled as I rose. Apparently, my standing drew all the attention, for both Chad and Taylor shot their heads to me with venom drooling from their mouths.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Chad hissed naïvely to what had just occurred between me and Troy. I did my best not to look down and see the expression that was surely on my face as well.

"Inside. Where I'm not going to get a headache from all this screaming." I rubbed my temples, though I could have cared less if they ripped each other's throats out, "I hope the bears attack you two for being so loud."

Sucking in a hot breath, I stumbled in the darkness towards the direction of the cabin and fought every natural instinct I had to run back into Troy's arms.


	7. Parietal Lobe

"Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, and the things you never want to lose."

~Kevin Arnold~

* * *

I had expected Troy to ignore me for the rest of the trip. The hallowed image of his face burned into my dreams that entire night. Even after I heard him come in long after the others had followed me to bed, I couldn't look at him in case his eyes would shine that same pain as they did in the glow of the fire. He didn't say a word – if he knew I was up – as he slid onto the couch that had been his bed. My nightmares were haunted by his bloodied cheeks in the hospital and every time I snapped back into consciousness, I had to turn over just to be sure that he was still snoozing soundlessly.

Therefore, it surprised me when I awoke the next morning to find a cup of coffee sitting on the table for me and Troy waiting in his workout clothes, requesting if he could run with me again.

I didn't know how long we had been running for when Troy slowed his long strides. The lake that ran parallel to that specific path shimmered behind the filter of the trees. Being the early hours of the morning, all was still. Each chirp of a bird was like an instrument in a choir – I didn't even feel the need to bring my iPod anymore, given nature provided much more soothing sounds than Lil Wanye's innuendo by means of children's candy. Our breathing felt as though we were interrupting a private concert.

Due to the stillness of the atmosphere, I jumped when Troy finally spoke the first words since we had begun on our adventure earlier this morning, "Were Chad and Taylor… that bad in high school?"

I was surprised to find his breath slightly staggered; obviously being in shape due to his basketball experiences and just possessed much more testosterone than I made him more athletic, therefore he controlled the pace. Not that I minded. I didn't want to have to worry about whether or not he thought I was showing off or not.

"Wh-what?" I panted, trying to lift my knees to keep up with him.

"Too fast?" Troy asked and slowed his stride.

My natural competitive edge that only surfaced when I was in the presence of Troy Bolton roared, "No!"

He didn't halt his decline. Instead, his feet transferred to a shuffle in the middle of the path. At first, I felt a swell of feat that I had worn him out, until I realized that by the time he completely slowed to a jog, I was puffing much more than he was.

Squinting between the sweat that was dripping into my eyelashes, I looked up to watch him simply shrug, "It was too fast for me."

I took those few moments to continue my pants with my hands on my knees and my head dropped towards the ground. Cursing, I tried not to look up to see that Troy merely stood with his arms idly at his sides and leaned casually against a tree, his breathing only slightly sparatic. I felt unbelievably weak as he tilted his head towards me in curiosity.

After I finally caught my breath and was able to stand with my hands on my hips, I couldn't help but look up at Troy and find myself drooling over the perfection of his bare chest.

"So, were they?" He asked – I frowned at the easiness of his face.

"What," I paused to swallow the phlegm that collected in the back of my throat, "What are you talking about?"

"Chad and Taylor. Were they as bitchy in high school as they are now?"

I didn't understand where this was coming from. Troy hadn't said a word on our run and I was certain he was still aggravated with me after the previous night occurred. I honestly didn't care much about Chad and Taylor's relationship as much as I did over whether or not Troy was going to call me a tease and punish me for leading him on. He didn't appear if he was angry though, not by the way the sweat trickled down the calmness of his face. I wanted to look anywhere else but at him, however, he was far too dazzling to ignore.

I sighed, my breathing rate finally returned to a normal level, "It's hard to explain. They just... they don't fit together. They were so unexpected."

Troy crossed his arms, "What do you mean?"

Shrugging, I ran a hand down the bark of a tree behind me, "They're not exactly compatible. I mean. I love them both. But Chad's friendly and outgoing, but only really cared about winning the championship." I felt a pang in my heart, remembering that Troy was supposed to be the one to lead them to that championship when he was voted captain for the season of his junior year. Obviously, he didn't make it that far, "And Taylor's intelligent and knows what she wants, but won't let anyone stand in her way of that. She's not in it for games."

With a quirk of his eyebrow, he asked, "Then why'd they hook up?"

Awkwardly, I turned away, "It's um… it's complicated."

"Gabi, seriously?" He snapped, obviously understanding what I was referring too. I could see the veins in his arms beginning to pop as he glowered at me. The look on his face, raw and murderous, was enough to send shivers down my spine – I was frightened.

"Okay, fine." My fingers clenched harder on the wood, "We were all shattered when you left, Troy. They bonded over that."

Again, I couldn't meet his gaze, for I knew he would be able to detect my lie. It wasn't completely untrue – Chad and Taylor had bonded over his departure. But rather than comforting each other, they drew close because they were both afraid I was going to crumble into pathetic grains of sand and fade away in a breeze. That's why they hadn't stayed together in college: their relationship was based off of my broken heart therefore when I was gone they had nothing to worry about together. Eventually, they became bored with not having to care for someone. Their differences overtook whatever connection had formed and ultimately drove them to separation.

He wasn't happy with my answer; I could tell by the way his jaw tightened when I finally looked up at him that he was mulling over more than he needed to.

"How'd …how'd, you know…how'd _you_ take it?" He hesitated coyly.

I tried not to close my eyes, knowing if I did, I would have been sucked back into a time warp that would remind me of the tear in my chest and the ghost it left in its place. Thinking quickly, I frantically tried to come up with an explanation to describe how broken I was without revealing the true reasoning behind it.

I took a deep breath before speaking, never once faltering my eyes from his, "It hurt like hell, Troy." I confessed, the rawness in my voice reflected the agony I had been put through, "We were best friends since I was ten. You don't know what it feels like to have your best friend look up at you and have no idea who you are."

There was pain in his face and I felt guilty. I didn't want to hurt him now, but it wasn't right to keep everything bottled up from him.

"Why didn't you come with Chad to Santa Fe?"

It didn't go unnoticed how bitter his voice was, representing how much it stung how I didn't make the effort.

Chewing on my lip, I took a step forward away from the tree to prove the truth of my words, "I was a coward, Troy. I was scared of seeing you and it hurting again. I'm so, so sorry."

He was silent for a long moment. Slowly, his sneakers scuffled against the dirt. I watch him keep his head down – thinking, regretting, wishing. My desire to rush over and throw my arms around his neck was overwhelming. I wanted to confess our love and tell him how much he meant to me: of how he was beautiful and my ex Chris had meant nothing compared to his presence. Before I could, however, the general in my head flashed the image of his repulsion to Sharpay. Unable to handle his rejection, my feet remained glued to the ground.

"Tell me something about _him_." Troy finally said after a long moment. His voice was quiet and subdued, his mind lost in thought.

"What?" I asked with perplexity.

His eyes flashed upwards and he gave me a one-sided smile – not happy, but calmed.

"Tell me something about my life. Not that I'm the shit at basketball or that I was supposed to be captain. Tell me something real."

There were a million things I could have told him; thousands of memories that had been stored and saved to make up for his that were erased. It was difficult to pick just one. I could have told him endless tales of the summer and how my brain was still electrified by the way he pushed back my hair or snuggled into my side whilst naked.

Finally picking a safer one, I smiled fondly to myself, "Um… okay, the third day of freshman year, you and I were having an argument over whether or not cafeteria food was make of rubber or not. We were standing and pushing your tray back and forth and suddenly my hand slipped and the chili fries just so happened to land on Sharpay's boobs."

Immediately, Troy snorted. His eyes were softening from their pierce of anger previously, "Awe man… _that's _why she hates us?"

By now, I was giggling too. Although I had the memory of his petrified face when Ice Princess whirled around and shoved her finger into my chest, my laughter was over separate things from his.

"She doesn't hate you… you two used to fuck every night, remember?" I teased while walking over to him, feeling the tension between us loosen.

His nose scrunched with disgust, "Ugh, don't even joke about that."

I continued my hiccups of laughter as he looked down at me differently than he had before. Curiosity was twinkling in his eyes as the air became thinner. Tilting my head, I tried to read his expression – it was nervous. Slowly, his hand arched around the back of his neck and he scratched it with a thread of awkwardness.

"Um…" He hesitated, never looking away from me, "You ready to head back or…"

Letting out a breath, I nodded and turned back towards the trail again, "I'm ready when you are."

"Race you back?" He smirked toothily.

Playfully, I slapped his bicep, "Last time you asked me that, I ended up dehydrated."

He winked before beginning our even pace once again, "If I can carry you back again, I'll take my chances."

God, help me.

* * *

For the first time since I had arrived at the cabin, I was going to experience an afternoon without Troy.

And I quickly realized that an afternoon without Troy just plain sucked.

Had anyone else besides Sharpay Evans decided they were going to stay behind from heading out for another hike, I would have been perfectly content with attempting to spend the day in solitude. After a day of going out into the boat once again and watching as the boys attempted to fish for – and fail miserably – our dinner, I had been looking forward to an early evening in solitude to catch up on the book I had brought as my company. Despite Troy's pleads, I urged the gang to go on without me. Until, of course, Sharpay decided she would rather paint her toe nails and complain instead of heading out with the rest of the gang.

I cursed the higher power that was punishing me.

"Does this look pink enough to you?" I jumped when a sudden foot shoved into my face, flexing its toes with a shimmer and shine that appeared kissed by a feminine flower. My feet, which were crossed and rested on the coffee table next to a flashlight and a deck of cards from when Taylor was playing solitaire earlier, almost crashed to the ground in surprise.

Protecting my novel, I flopped the pages down so they rested upon my thighs and quirked my eyebrow, "Sharpay… everything you own is pink. It looks fine to me."

"Ugh," she groaned and fell back into the cushions, staring up at me with both annoyance and superiority, "not everything I own is pink. You should pay attention more."

I glanced over to see that, indeed, I had been mistaken. For what seemed like the first time all vacation, she was wearing a teal halter with an intricate beading embroidered into the dipping neckline. Her bright hair was pulled up; a bump arched where her bangs should have fallen as they were pinned back. Had I not thought she was obnoxious, I would have admitted that the white shorts curved around her ass actually made her long legs look good.

"Honestly, Sharpay… the color of your nail polish really doesn't interest me."

Lifting my book again, I tried to immerse myself with the world of murdered nieces and condemned journalists in Sweden when the diva shifted her position to smirk knowingly in my direction. It made me squirm uneasily as I truly attempted to concentrate on the words that leapt off the page before me. Unable to take her scrutiny any longer, I whirled around with anger in my stare and poison in my voice as I snapped, "_What_?"

She shrugged, "Nothing. I was just thinking about what _might _interest you."

Her fingers ran through the divisions of her toes. She didn't look at me, but I knew she was trying to tease. It wasn't worth the trouble, I knew this. So I dug my nose into the book once again.

"Okay, fine," the book flapped to my legs once again, "Humor me, Sharpay. What _would _interest me?"

"Oh, I don't know." Again, she sent me a smirk of true evil, "How about amnesia-prone football captains with rippling abs?"

"Troy played basketball."

Her eyes glistened with amusement and wickedness, "I didn't think you would admit to it so easily."

My face paled. Fuck her.

"I'm not talking about this with you." My body did its absolute best to turn in the opposite direction so I could, quite literally, give her the cold shoulder. Still, I could hear her snickers scratching my ears from across the couch. It was hard to ignore the cynical way she kept shooting me all too knowing looks. I tried ignoring her and failed miserably.

"I'm surprised he didn't drag you out the door. Figured he wanted some action after last night."

By now I was beyond irritated and practically threw my book down, "I didn't know anything happened last night."

"I saw you two under the blanket. Don't try to play Mother Tessa on me."

My eyebrows flew upwards, "Don't you mean Mother _Teresa_?"

"Same thing." She said with a wave of her hand.

"Not that it's any of your business." I emphasized, "But Troy didn't touch me last night." I winced at the raunchiness of this statement.

Her eyes rolled, "Sure he didn't, Montez. I'm sure his fingers just so happened to slip into your-"

Thankfully, her sentence was never finished when the door swung open.

"We fucking made it!"

The voice was unmistakable as it bellowed through the house. Immediately, my head was thrown to look over towards the screen door. Unable to help myself from finally smiling, I watched as Jason eagerly bounced into the cabin with his Redhawks baseball cap turned backwards upon his head and a chuckle upon his lips. Narrowing my eyes, I attempted to see if the rest of the gang was to enter the threshold as well. The only one, however, who followed was – my heart skipped a beat – Troy.

"Dude, I told you I knew where we were going." He said with an eye roll that ultimately caused them to land on me. I felt my breath catch when he flickered a smile in my direction given he hadn't even been in the house for more than ten seconds.

"I don't trust you. I didn't want to get eaten by a fucking bear."

"Hey guys!" I greeted, not bothering to stand up or make a notion to acknowledge them. Both swiveled in my direction and beamed fondly, completely ignoring the diva who was humming obnoxiously from the other end of the couch, "Where's everyone else?"

Troy shrugged, "They were feeling adventurous."

It seemed out of character for Troy to give up an opportunity to prove his strength or perform an athletic feat. I tilted my head slightly, sending him a look of curiosity without saying a word. He gave me a look that spoke silently of how he understood my perplexity, and his smile shortly followed.

"It was getting dark," he explained and nodded towards the window where I was able to see the sunburst of purples and oranges to indicate nightfall, "And I had to be sure Jason got home in one piece."

Something told me it wasn't the only reason he wanted to be back.

"Whacha guys doin'?" Jason asked and he circled the sofa, popping down in the middle to divide us. His dark eyebrows rose as he noticed the book in my hands. Unexpectedly, he snatched it from my grasped and frowned, "Why the fuck are you _reading_?"

I giggled, attempting to reach over and steal the novel back from him. However, Jason's ball handling skills in high school were being tested as he played a game of one-man keep away from me.

"Some of us…don't spend hours… playing Call of Duty…"

"Come on, Shorty," he poked fun at my height as he raised the novel above his head, "can't reach?"

"Ugh… don't touch me!" Sharpay fanned the crinkles of her nose when Jason almost fell on top of her by arching backwards. We immediately stole a glance from each other – his much more cynical than mine. Bending back so I was now pressed up against the arm of the couch once again, I suddenly felt a presence looming behind me. It didn't take a genius to guess who had subtly gripped the curve of the couch so my exposed back tickled against his hands. I sighed, content, trying not to draw attention to the possessiveness he carried.

"There's no way in hell I'm gonna let you read this shit anymore." Jason tossed my thriller to the coffee table.

"Dude, it's not like we've got anything else to do." I heard Troy's voice behind me, "they won't be back for at least another hour."

Jason seemed to ponder this. With his finger tapping his chin and his dark eyes surveying the cabin, I felt a sense of foreboding. He wasn't a stupid guy, but his motives were slightly less than innocent. Sharpay didn't seem to notice, nor care, as she sat with her arms folded and attempted to remain as far away from him as possible. Troy, on the other hand, was tensing behind me. I had to resist the temptation of run my fingers up his arms in comfort.

Suddenly, Jason's gazed stopped as it rested upon the wood of the coffee table. A long smile drew over his features as he glanced up at Troy, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Unable to help myself, I looked up at Troy to see his eyes were slightly wide and panicked.

"Dude." He warned.

"Come on, man. Live a little."

"What's going on?" I demanded, looking up at Troy with both fear and pleads of comfort.

He swallowed and turned his attention back down towards me. Slowly, his hand trailed up my shoulder and squeezed – a gesture to comfort me.

"Jason's just being a perv and thinking through his unusually small dick." He responded, as though to assure me.

"Please, Bolton… I know you of all of us want to-"

Troy was silent, not denying this fact as Jason's lips curled triumphantly.

I suddenly _needed _to know this scheme, knowing that it was something both forbidden yet desirable in his eyes. My hand reached out before I could stop it, squeezing his wrist tightly and penetrating every ounce of persuasion possible through my eyes. He stared at me with his nostrils flaring and attraction leaking from his skin. I was too desperate to try and pretend like the gaze was platonic – it was far from innocent.

"Troy." I whispered, attempting to speak to _my _Troy make him cave, "What is he talking about?"

He didn't have to answer me – I suddenly heard a slap against a thick surface that made me whirl around to see Jason holding up the deck of cards with pure evil casting over his face.

"Two words, Montez," his teeth showed animalistically, "Strip. Poker."

My entire body froze just as Sharpay slowly spoke.

"Well it's about time someone had a little fun around here."

* * *

Never had I felt so exposed in my life.

"Awe… stop being a fucking party pooper, Montez!"

I crossed my arms over my chest which, by now, was only concealed by the sapphire bra that strapped around my torso. I watched as Jason, who was seated on the floor next to me and still magically wearing his shorts and socks, smirk at me with pure bemusement. With disgust, I glanced over to see Sharpay's plucked eyebrows were raised in a challenge – one that I wasn't willing to take.

"I already told you, Jase. If you want to me to take anything off of Sharpay, then you're going to have to take off Troy's boxers next."

Had I not been trembling in my toes, I would have caught sight of Troy glaring at me from across the three cards that lay in the center of our quad.

I had never played strip poker before, nor had I had any desire to. Honestly, I always thought it was just an excuse for a group of people to have an orgy. But Sharpay and Jason had been insistent after he suggested it. The entire time we debated, I tried my absolute hardest not to blush in front of Troy. It wasn't like I cared if he knew how uncomfortable I was with the situation – it really wasn't a secret that both of us were feeling something slightly more than platonic towards the other. Just the thought of him completely exposed had caught me on the edge of purely adulterated horniness.

Just like the way I felt as I caught sight that he was now only dressed in a pair of plaid boxers.

I had never heard of the version where each person takes a turn of stripping the loser of the hand, if it even _was _a version verses an idea Jason made up because he wanted to see Sharpay and I touch each other far more intimately than I ever wanted. Immediately, I shut the idea of same gender action down. I didn't judge those who swung the other way than I, but it wasn't a lifestyle I wished to ever experience. Besides, I already knew I was straight – the burning desire every time I caught gazes with Troy within the depths of my intimate regions was a reminder of that.

"Mmmkay." Jason collected the cards and shuffled, arching the deck into a bridge to show off. Lustfully, his eyes lingered on Sharpay's and then mine, "Which bra am I taking off next?"

Troy hissed possessively, "Don't get too comfortable." My heart fluttered as I watched his fists ball.

I glanced over –not lingering too long, of course – to see that Sharpay was only in a lacy push up bra that she barely filled – colored pink, naturally. She wore a thong that matched – the source of my avoidance. Thankfully, I chosen the boy shorts style that morning, therefore I didn't have to worry about spreading my legs and giving Troy a pure crotch shot as Sharpay was doing with Jason.

Jason dealt out two cards each. On the ground, I peaked beneath the flaps: a two of spades and a four of hearts. Dammit.

I tried to read everyone else's poker faces – Troy's and Jason's were perfected while I was already able to tell that Sharpay had been dealt a fairly decent hand given her low smile. Flickering towards the diva, Troy immediately turned towards me to read my expression. I was a rock, petrified and praying that he would save me if it happened to turn out terribly.

Jason placed down the first card face up – we were playing Texas Hold 'em.

An eight of diamonds.

Fuck.

"You look nervous, Montez." Jason wiggled his eyebrows.

"Just put the fucking card down, Cross." Troy hissed; his eyes were dangerous and penetrating.

An eyebrow quirked, "Testy, Bolton?"

He growled – it suddenly made me want to pounce on him.

Jason's hand lowered again and I held my breath, anticipating the worst: a jack of hearts.

Double fuck.

His fingers flitted the final card before he dropped it: four of clubs.

I could deal with that.

It was silent for a long moment. All of us were catching each other's eyes, waiting for the first person to place their cards down. Even Sharpay seemed to be intrigued with what was concealed. I wasn't oblivious to the way Troy was burning his eyes into me. I dared to look up and felt my heart race. There was a shimmer of possession behind his stare – it was obvious he didn't want Jason to touch me. I felt my breath catch when I thought I saw a shimmer of the old Troy, of _my _Troy, baring his teeth – prepared to fight.

"Two tens." Sharpay broke the silence, grinning with triumph. It surprised me; I would have thought she would have wanted to strip.

"Three pair… suck on that, bitch!" Jason threw down his matching pair of jacks.

And that left Troy and I.

If he had less than I, we would continue with the game and Jason would not be removing my lingerie. Troy wouldn't need to remove his boxers either. The second scenario was just as dangerous – my boy shorts would dampen even more than they already were if he completely lost.

Swallowing, Troy placed his cards down upon the hardwood floor and mumbled, "An eight and a king… a pair."

My eyes immediately closed in defeat. His pair beat mine.

"Oh, fuck yes." Jason groaned as I revealed my failing hand. I didn't notice the way he was rubbing his hands together excitedly, I was too busy watching Troy's chin ground with pure hatred. Unable to control myself, my hand reached out to grab his wrist and squeeze in comfort. However, the action was immediately intercepted. Before I knew what was happening, Jason had twirled me around and had desire leaking from his smirk, "This is going to be epic."

"Fuck you, Cross." I muttered, already feeling my body burn with pure mortification that I was about to be exposed to two people – technically three, since Troy couldn't remember – my naked body. Panic was bubbling through my stomach as Jason encircled his arms around me, taking his time by feeling the grooves and bumps along my spine. His breath was hot and husky as it spilled over my neck. He didn't think of me anymore than a friend, but I knew the opportunity to see an almost naked girl was driving him wild.

As Jason finally took hold of the clasp, I looked up at Troy once last time with apologetic eyes.

"Wait!"

I let out a breath of relief.

"_What_? I'm a little busy, Bolton!" Jason hissed as he turned his direction towards Troy. He was now up onto his knees and a smile wide with victory.

"She still has her bellybutton ring in."

If I hadn't been head over heels for him before, I would have fallen in love with him just for that statement.

I immediately pushed Jason away and slapped his bare chest, "Take that, Cross!" I teased, feeling giddy and high that I wouldn't have to be revealing my boobs for at least this round. He glared viciously at Troy and then at me, probably planning out his mass murder as he grudgingly reached towards my stomach to unscrew the top ball that held my jewelry together. I didn't even mind that he took more time than necessary to brush against my stomach – I was too elated I was still partially clothed.

"I owe you." I mumbled towards Troy when Jason muttered his profanities back to his appropriate spot and chucked the deck of cards at me.

"I better lose this round." Jason grumbled as I began to shuffle the cards, "You're taking my shorts off as revenge, Montez."

Feeling drunk off of relief, I shrugged my shoulders, "We'll just have to see how the cards lay."

"Yes!" Sharpay squealed, not even bothering to hide her excitement as I began to deal. I wasn't quite out of the woods yet, of course, I could still have to remove my own bra if I happened to lose this round. I was praying that my nine of clubs and my queen of hearts would keep me clothed.

That hope only increased when I flipped the first of three cards down to find it was a nine as well.

Jason was frowning when I placed the second card to the ground to reveal a jack – I figured it meant that he had a match. Sharpay was still swinging her sunshine hair back and forth, delighted. I looked up to see that Troy had a small, and utterly sexy, smirk upon his lips as his eyes drilled into mine. It was difficult to read, but it made my skin crawl with eroticism.

"I have a pair of queens." Jason mumbled with disappointment after I placed down the final card: a two of diamonds. His frown grew deeper as I laid down my matching nine as well and Sharpay happily tossed her two twos into the center, making it a three of a kind.

I watched as the cocky grin exploded onto Troy's face as he dropped his cards and stood up, gazing at me with a look that could only be described as lustful.

"A three and a ten." His eyes darkened as he pointed to his boxers, ready for me to remove.

My eyes widened and I gulped.

I was about to see Troy Bolton buck-naked.

And I was going to be stripping him.

Oh fuck.

The sexual tension that lingered among the group finally ignited and exploded. The mood suddenly shifted from a playful competition to pure and raw desire. The other experiences suddenly became forgotten; Jason's teasings of pulling Sharpay and my shirts off and Troy's removal of my earrings and headband were nothing compared to the essence of hunger that sweat from his face. I was petrified and wary of exposing him, but those thoughts were erased from my mind with the rest of the world. Suddenly, _I _was the victim of amnesia. I had completely forgotten how inappropriate this was when he lifted his hand upwards and wiggled his finger - a coax dripping with seduction.

I was bewitched as I obeyed. Standing, I didn't even notice as my feet completely destroy our card game. Both aware of the sexual past Troy and I held, I didn't even feel Jason and Sharpay's eyes drilling into the two of us. Troy was the only one who existed in my world.

And I wanted him. God, I _needed_ him.

I stopped just before him, watching as his eyes trailed approvingly over my body and back to my face, sending a look that was covered with filth. I, however, never left his eyes. Stronger than gravity, they kept my balance as I lowered to one knee, and then the other. Our breathing was begining to stagger in harmony, and we hadn't even touched each other under the hazy orange and black dim of the room.

Until I curled my palms around each of his hips, letting out a breath of relieved frustration – God, I had missed them. I heard a groan when my thumbs hooked beneath the elastic waistband of the red and black material. My breath hitched again, but I sucked in my courage and slowly began to pull the fabric down.

Without even looking, I knew he was a rock.

I saw his fantasy shining in his midnight eyes – cooled azure darkened with desire. Reflected back was a much more erotic version of me– still strapped in my bra and boy shorts – rocking forwards and back with moans mewling from my occupied lips. It made me blush, knowing exactly what he would have sold his soul for in that moment. The originality of his personality washed into a pool of on the hardwood of the floor. The complexity of Troy Bolton no longer existed. He was suddenly a _man_; a man with one simple need that he was silently begging to be satisfied.

And he wanted _me_ to give it to him.

Growing overeager, I dipped my hands beneath his boxers before they could completely crumple to the floor. I avoided the reason for the tent that popped and concentrated on the way he felt beneath my fingertips. Like the yellowbrick road, I followed the trail of hair that pointed to the direction of euphoria, splitting my hands just before reaching what he desired me to touch. The skin down on either side of his arousal felt different than the rest of his body. His arms, legs, neck and chest were weathered by exposure. This area, so sacred and private, was hidden from the elements by his clothes; therefore, it was smoothed and perfected, with few straggles of hair just above his organs. I was one of the few who had had the pleasure of being able to touch such an intimate region. And it felt like heaven.

"Jesus…Gabi…" He groaned, making no attempt to veil how turned on he was as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. And I hadn't even touched his dick.

I curled my lips as seductively as I could, anticipating being able to release him from the imprisonment of his clothing…

"What the _fuck _is going on?"

The booming voice startled me. I jumped, immediately introduced to reality once again and realized what I was about to do. Troy's eyes widened as well, breaking the spell of desire between us. Panicked, I pushed his pelvis away from me and whirled around to see Chad, Taylor, and Zeke standing just beyond the couch with their jaws dropped to the floor and their faces purely horrified.

"_Gabriella?_" Taylor hissed with astonishment. The shadows of the room were drawing slowly over their faces, making them appear lethal.

"It…it's not what… it's not what you think!" I attempted to defend as soon as I found my voice. Troy was still standing, frantically trying to cover the clearly obvious bulge that was sticking out beneath his underwear.

"Dude… if she's gonna fucking blow you, don't do it in front of _these two_!" Chad's fingers pointed towards Jason and Shapray, who looked just as guilty as we did.

"No! I wasn't… look it's…" My words came out as vomit as I staggered to a stance, remembering I was now only wearing my panties and bra, "It's not what it looks like… I swear!"

"Then what the _hell_?" Chad demanded.

"We're playing strip poker." Jason finally answered, holding up a pair of cards. I glanced over at Troy again to see he was running a hand through his hair and taking deep breaths. Fighting the urge to rub his back to calm him down, I looked at the ground instead and prayed this would all just disappear.

"Strip. Poker?" Taylor asked, looking up at me for the truth.

"It's true." Troy responded with his voice slightly higher than usual, "And uh… I just lost..."

The three of them looked between us; judging the way that most of us were practically naked and a deck of cards were spilled across the floor if we were being honest. Taylor looked the most upset, Chad appeared slightly bemused at our uncomforted behavior and Zeke was slightly disgusted, yet guilty. By now, Troy was holding up his pair of shorts, but breathing just as roughly as he had been a few moments before. We avoided looking at each other, trying to calm ourselves down before we told them all to fuck off so we could pick up where we left off.

Finally, Taylor shook her head and said, "I don't even want to know." Her hands lifted as she turned away, "Get clothes on – we're making dinner." With that she briskly stalked away.

For one last time, Troy and I caught an awkward glance that was both hesitation and lust.

So much for just being friends.

* * *

**A/N: I know I'm slightly rusty with the sexual tension, given that I haven't really done it in months, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyways. I honestly don't know how to express my gratitude for you guys. The response that has been left has been unreal, so thank you so incredibly much. You guys are amazing.**


	8. Amygdala

"A smile happens in a flash, but its memory can last a lifetime."

~Anonymous~

* * *

"You seem shaken up." Chad commented as he looked at me in the darkness with a gentle face.

Holding the pillar on the wraparound porch tightly, I shook my head and smiled teasingly at him, "I almost saw Troy Bolton's dick, Chad. Of course I'm shaken up."

He shrugged his shoulder, "It's familiar territory… what's the problem?"

Ruthlessly, I glared at him, smacked his chest as hard as I possibly could, and hoped it would bruise.

"Hey! Be nice, alright? I'm on your side…" Chad groaned while rubbing his chest as though I had really injured him. I seriously doubted it, given that he bulged in muscles during his freshman year of college. It was sometimes intimidating standing around the boys – I was short and admittedly skinny despite my natural curves. But there was something protective when any of them wrapped their arms around me, especially Chad and obviously Troy. Chad's muscles were warm and comforting; Troy's burned and dangerously held me with possession.

"You started it." I grumbled, gazing out into the unknown of the woods and trying not to flashback to hours before, when my hands were so close to the intimate regions of Troy's body. I shivered into my fleece, but not because of the cold.

Chad reached out and grabbed my shoulder, "Come on, Gabs. I'm just givin' you a hard time." He softly reminded me of his childish behavior. It didn't make me relax at all; I simply turned away and glared out at the gravel below, "Who the fuck cares? I've seen Troy's cock before, it's nothing special."

My eyes narrowed at his insult, "Maybe not to you."

The air exploded in the roar of Chad's laughter. I didn't find anything possibly funny about the situation, but his fits caused little giggles to hiccup from my throat. He was doubled over the railing, smacking his hand against the surface so hard I was certain it was going to break. Obviously, I tried to frown to prove how unsatisfied I was with his mockery – I also failed miserably.

"I can't believe… you just said that…"

"It's one of the _many _things that are special about him." I tried to compensate and make myself sound less like a sex addict.

Wiping his eyes as he rose to a stance, Chad shook his head, "Gabs, you saying he's 'special' isn't really helping right now."

I sighed angrily and crossed my arms, angered by his instance to make my life much more scandalous than I wanted it to be. He either caught up with his guilt or he noticed the way my face began to falter with thoughts of how royally messed up this situation was, since his laughter ceased and he placed a hand upon my elbow. Not moving to his touch, Chad let out a breath and tried to tug at my arm harder to grab my attention, "Gabs…"

"I shouldn't even be messing with this." I spoke, more to myself than to Chad, and felt my eyes burn. I refused to release tears, however. I was stronger than that, "Troy and I should be just friends…"

"Gabriella." He spoke my name with defiance, making me turn to him, "That's fucked up and you damn well know it."

I knew it was true. This was the second time Troy and I had both fallen for each other – granted, mine feelings never truly ceased. I should have taken it as a sign that we were supposed to be together, but I was too wrapped up in the heartbreak he had put me through when he failed to remember my name. It hurt too much to even fathom not having him in my life anymore, and stepping over the division of friendship would only shatter me if I lost him again.

"Is Taylor mad?" I asked softly, trying to divert the conversation away from my denial our relationship.

Momentarily, I saw him tense his shoulders as he stared out into horizon. It was difficult to view the tree line since night had fallen long before we commenced our game of poker, but I could tell he was attempting to find truth within the branches and leaves that fluttered in the light wind.

"I hadn't really talked to her." He responded after a long minute, leaning his elbows on the railing and lacing his hands together, "I doubt it. I just really didn't want to see you sucking him when I walked in."

I rolled my eyes, "I wasn't going to touch him!"

"Chill, Montez."

We were silent then, lost in our own thoughts and memories of past times when the most complicated question was who would be on which team for a game of two on two. The crickets chirped around us, heightening the calmness and serenity. My breath felt as though it was disrupting the perfection that nature revealed. I wondered if he was imagining the days he spent with Taylor as I reminisced every kiss and stolen glance with Troy. I doubted it – my impression was that he just wanted them to go back to normal instead of the awkwardness they were currently in.

"Do you still love her?"

Chad turned to me in the darkness. It was difficult to see his eyebrow raised as his chin was in his hands now and his forefinger was reaching up to touch his nose, "Who?"

I rolled my eyes, "Taylor."

He didn't even bother to ponder this before, ringlets flying in every direction, he shook his head, "No. Honestly, I don't think I ever really loved her."

"Oh."

He gave me a small smile that was neither happy nor cynical, but composed, "I just wish we could just go back to being friend again, yah know? I mean… we weren't right." He shot another grin in my direction, "We weren't a Troy and Gabriella."

That statement, for some bizarre reason, pulled at the tight strings of my heart. I didn't feel like tearing up, that wasn't like me, but I felt a swell of companionship towards him. Unable to help myself, I threw my arms around Chad's neck and hugged him close. He was chuckling again, a low grumble in my ear as his hand rubbed up and down my back. It wasn't meant to be in a soothing manner, but I couldn't help but feel utterly close to him as my face buried into his neck.

"Give him a chance, Gabs. We've all been waiting too fucking long for this."

I tried to smile at the thought of all of my friends waiting for us to be reunited again, "I can't get hurt. Not again, Chad. I can't watch him leave after we go home."

"He's not going anywhere, trust me." He promised as he patted the top of my head, giving me the strength to pull away from his chest. Almost as though to inform of us the time, a light that glared from the upper level of the cabin switched off for sleep. Chad's dark eyes shifted upwards , "Come on, we should get inside. We're goin' kayaking tomorrow, remember?"

His arm slung around my shoulder with a brotherly aura. Glancing once more at the emptiness and twinkles of the night, I quickly hurried as he ushered me towards the door.

Screen had swung shut behind us with a clatter and I was forced to squint towards my appropriate bed setting. There was a light that shined a hazy orange from the upper level of the cabin, but it wasn't enough for me to make out the figure that I knew was already draped across the couch, mostly likely passed out with sleep. Suddenly, goosebumps rippled down my spine; I realized this would be the first we would be alone since the poker experience. Chad must have noticed, for he squeezed me tighter and peered over to see my expression as I stared blankly into the shadows – the unknown.

"Are you gonna be okay?" He whispered.

I hesitated, debating whether or not I should request to sleep in Taylor and Sharpay's room for the night. However, I couldn't. I couldn't just simply run away from the situations, so matter how daunting they were.

With a wry smile, I nodded, "I'll be fine. Promise."

My eyes fluttered closed when he kissed my cheek and gave my palm one last pulsation. The air felt cold when he finally released me and turned back towards the steps. I watched the entire way until his foot disappeared through the ceiling, debating whether or not I should sprint back up the stairs and request that I sleep with the boys tonight; it would be much safer than what was about to occur the moment I spun on my heels towards my fate.

It was silly, of course, for when I finally approached the lounge area, I noticed that his blanket hung loosely on his body and his head was pushed up against the pillow. Without any lines of stress upon his forehead or creases in his eyelids, it appeared as though he was too composed to be asleep. I knew better, however, since his chest rose and fell at an even pace. Smiling to myself, I couldn't help be feel his vulnerability radiate from his slumber.

After a tiny mental debate with myself, my guard slowly began to drop. I couldn't help but feel a swell of desire towards him – surfaced from an over dump of hormones during the poker game. Slowly, my fingers flexed as they touched the warmth of his revealing bicep and slowly hovered over the surface of his arm. A lazy smile cast over my face when I finally reached his palm.

"Night Troy." I whispered to both the new Troy and my Troy.

My hand burned when it left his skin and I walked over to where my duffle bag had been stationed. Soundlessly, I sifted through my clothes until I found the plaid shorts and white tanktop that were my pajamas. After glancing to be sure that Troy was indeed asleep, I turned away and strategically managed to change my clothes without revealing any ounce of skin that shouldn't have been exposed with him so close. Finally, I stuffed my day clothes back into the bag and hopped onto the couch, spreading the blanket out over my body as he did so. Immediately, sleep began to wash over me.

Of course, not before I heard a soft mumble from the opposite couch that sent shivers down my spine.

"Night Gabi."

* * *

"Gabi…fuck… come on… stroke harder…"

"I would stroke harder if you would dip deeper!"

"Gabi…"

"You're getting me wet, you asshole!"

I sighed and balanced my oar onto my lap, cranking my head around to glare mercilessly at the snickers from behind Troy's aviators. He was not even bothering to attempt to stifle his laughter as he lifted his own oar up and spilled water onto my back, making me squeal again.

"Cut it out, Bolton!" I snapped as the ice of the lake trickled down the grooves of my back. Squirming, I almost knocked my paddle into the lake as I arched my back in surprise.

"Then stroke harder, goddammit!"

The sun beat down onto my shoulder blades with intensity and heat – no surprise there. Despite the ugliness of the lifejacket that was strapped to my chest, I was actually happy it was soaked and kept me cool. Although it was hot everywhere, the reflection of the lake only increased the temperature to balming levels. Apart from Troy's constant teasings of getting me drenched with the edge of his paddle, a jet ski or speed boat would occasionally pass, thus spraying me with water and keeping me cooled.

I heard a clatter of plastic and twisted around again to see Troy was dipping his face into a pool of water that was cupped within his palms. A swell of attraction balled in my throat due to the way his bangs matted black against his forehead. Before I could catch myself, he peered up at me with bright eyes and a cocky smirk, "What?"

Quickly, I shook my head and faced forward again, "Nothing."

"Where the hell are they?" Troy cursed behind me. My hands gripped the edge of the kayak when the weight shifted. I heard his chuckle and looked back to see that he slouched in his seat every slightly, making the slicked hair on his kneecaps visible.

Rolling my eyes, I couldn't help but attempt to survey the rest of the lake to see if familiar boats that were identical to ours could be distinguished on the glassy surface, "How am I supposed to know?" I snapped, glaring at him with irritation, "I've been with you this whole time."

His lips curled upwards again, "Like you're complaining."

I blushed and turned around to pout in my seat – he was right.

It wasn't even a question of whether or not Troy and I were going to be partners for the kayaking adventure around the lake that afternoon. Sharpay so subtly informed us that "there was no fucking way she would sit on anything other people farted on" and offered to lay out by the cars near the boat rental. After we paid for two double kayaks and two singles, Troy immediately grabbed my hand and dragged to towards what he claimed was the fastest. Taylor offered to steer a single, most likely avoiding the awkwardness of potentially having to double with Chad. It wasn't an issue – Chad and Jason took the other double and Zeke was perfectly content with riding in the final boat by himself.

The plan had been to paddle around for about an hour before we were to meet up at a local ice cream shop that harbored on the edge of the water – the patio hung over the lake. However, boys being boys, decided they were going to race around the circumference of the shore. This was idiotic, obviously, since the lake around would have taken hours to complete due to the vastness of it. Sometime after I had complained about my biceps starting to strain, Troy eased on his swift paddles to allow me to rest. Unfortunately, this only meant we now had absolutely no idea where we were, or where our friends were.

"My arms hurt." Troy groaned and rotated his arm around in his shoulder. I did my best not to stare at the way the muscles in his arms balled and flexed with every circle.

"_Yours _hurt? Troy… my sport only requires legs!"

"So? I'm not in season."

"Still," I sighed and teetered my oar back and forth once again, "I just wish we knew where we _were_."

"Pshh… don't ask me." He said with a shrug and a bitter gaze in his face, "I'm the one with the fucked up memory."

This angered me – it was clear that he had an issue when others singled him out for what had happened all those years ago, therefore he had no right to mention it himself.

"Don't pull the Drew Barymore card on me."

Behind his sunglasses, a brunette eyebrow quirked, "What?"

"You're not like 50 First Dates, so you should know where we are." I hissed, getting upset over his comments about his memory and due to the frustration of being so close to an abandon shoreline with no sign of humanity other than the approaching speedboat along the horizon. The brown water beneath us chopped evenly against the side of the kayak as we glided through the surface.

I suddenly watched the shift in his demeanor – playful to staid. His head dropped so he was staring at the way his hands smoothed over the handle of the oar.

"She had anterograde amnesia. I have retrograde. I don't have any recollection of declarative memory."

I didn't understand why he was suddenly baring his soul while we were lost in the middle of the lake, but I was suddenly drunk off his words and the way he spoke with raw pain. Every muscle in my body twitched to reach back and collect his hand into mine, but I restrained and continued to watch him struggle. His brow furrowed as though he was scavenging through the depths of his mind, attempting to light a room with a single match.

"What does that mean?" I asked softly, trying to prove I was truly interested in what he had to say.

"Declarative memory is like… emotions and shit. Like… I still have the skills to tear up the court and I could tell you how many free-throws MJ made while on the Bulls… but I couldn't tell you the first time I made a basket or when my dad took me to my first Laker's game."

Swallowing thickly, I attempted to smile and break the seriousness, "You could just look those stats on the internet."

Finally, his eyes lifted to mine – a burn hotter than the sun upon my body.

"I knew what fucking was when I woke up," his voice was dangerous and low, "but I have no idea who I lost my virginity to."

I gulped and fought with my reflexes to turn away with pure mortification – I knew.

Wringing my hands together, I turned back around and stared at the murkiness that swirled beneath the kayak. There was suddenly so much I wished to say, to tell him. My courage was not as strong as I made it appear; I couldn't seem to form the words that would confess our love together. Instead, my hand reached out and strategically – without tipping the boat – dipped my fingers through the cloudy surface. However, when I cradled a cup into my palm, I could see the bottom of my hand. The liquid was crystal clear beyond the first impression, thus proving it was still _water_ no matter how translucent it was.

"I swear to fucking God, if they're getting ice cream right now, they're in a world of hurt." Troy's tone suddenly leaked his sarcastic playfulness again.

"We're lost, and the only thing you can think of is getting ice cream?" I teased, "Glad you have your priorities in order."

There was a wicked smirk on his face as the kayak began to bounce up and down due to a ripple on the water, "I wanna see how good you are a licking things."

I was going to rebut when I opened my mouth, but I never got the chance.

The coming events happened in slow motion; I couldn't exactly pinpoint the events in order. While we were talking, I hadn't heard the buzzing motor of the speedboat until it was too late. Suddenly water splashed into my face and made me taste the bitter flavor of the lake. That, however, was only a preview of what was in store for my fate. The violent rocking of the ripples from the speed boat crashed against the poor little kayak – a storm against a vessel at sea. Without time to take a breath or salvage what was left of our balance, I was drinking the murky water when we submerged. Although the blistering heat still lingered, my skin pierced with knives of ice when I completely hung upside down below the surface.

At first, I panicked. The pressure of air pressed against my legs, trapping me into the boat. My eyes flew open as I frantically attempted to push at the kayak – kicking until I knew I would bruise. With my black coils twisting like tentacles, I was blind to the underwater world.

I had to think logically or I knew I was going to drown. My lungs were beginning to burst for air and my legs ached in a cramp – a symptom of the cold. I was quickly becoming disoriented: up suddenly seemed like down and left rotated into right. I knew I had been hanging against gravity, but now I was completely lost in the earthy sea. The lifejacket – I had naively, and stupidly, not bothered to clip it to my chest – began to float upwards and closed around my neck. I had no choice but to wiggle my arms out and release the preserver before it choked against my trachea. I hadn't bothered to watch where it floated to the surface; my mind was too busy screaming for air.

There was suddenly a tug from behind me – at least Ithink it was behind me – and I fearfully snapped my head around. My hysteria ceased, however, when a palm rested on my stomach and an arm wrapped around my back. I turned to see, in the filter of greens and browns, a familiar chain was floating before me.

Troy pushed back the mess of my hair so he could calm me and keep me from squirming any longer. I stilled.

My arms immediately wound around his neck as he attempted to flip himself so his feet padded against the surface of the submerged kayak. He reached for the seat, sliding his forearm effortlessly beneath my legs and held me in a bridal style. I clutched tightly as he used the power in his legs to bolt from the wreck and swim deeper into the unknown. With bullet speed, he shot towards the shimmer of light from above.

My head finally broke the surface, allowing me to drink in the hot air.

Our pants were in synchronization as his hand squeezed its way through the snarl of my hair and cupped my scalp tightly to his neck – protectiveness oozed with each pulsation of his fingers. I gripped tighter to his shoulder and felt slightly guilty for making him hold up my body weight while he treaded water.

His nose was close to my ear when he asked in his voice, gruffed and strained, "You okay?"

I suddenly realized I was angry. Not at him, but at the idiots who decided to drive their boats right next to our kayak and induced the fright of tipping over.

"No." I mumbled into his neck, irritation clearly leaking from my tone.

Troy immediately stiffened at the sound of my apparent injury. His palm immediately ran down my back and my legs to check for bruises. I tried not to shiver when his thumb slipped over the inside of my thigh.

"Physically, are you hurt?" He sounded confused as he looked at me, cradling my back and holding my arm with his.

"No."

This made him sigh with relief, "Do you want me to carry you?" He inquired gently.

"No."

He frowned, "Well then do you want to swim?"

"No."

"Goddammit Gabriella!" He groaned and finally pushed me away. It was difficult to shove me in a direction in the water due to the resistance, so it didn't hurt in the slightest. Instead, it took me off guard and forced me to begin to wiggle my arms in a pattern that would keep me afloat. The water hadn't warmed, but I adapted enough that every ripple that chopped against my body didn't feel as though pins were sticking through my skin.

I glared ruthlessly at Troy as he sank beneath the water and then resurfaced again about fifteen feet away, just beside the boat.

"Help me get this to shore." Troy ordered in a voice that was not quite demanding, but evident that he wanted to get out of the water. Still seething, I kicked over to where he was lifting one side of the kayak with the two oars wedged between his cheek and his shoulder. I swam to the other side and lifted, finding it much lighter than I anticipated – most likely because Troy was lifting the majority of the weight.

It didn't take long until my feet squished through the spongy surface of the lake floor. Troy walked backwards as he made it onto the grassy surface of the edge, giving me cues of where he wanted me to drop the kayak. Finally, we released it in synchronization and looked up at each other. Although the water droplets collecting on my skin still caused shivers, the heat of the sun and Troy's gaze quickly evaporated them.

It angered me. Everything angered me.

His feet cracked when he stepped on the twigs and grass to read me. His eyes were slowly trailing over the green bandeau style bikini, but not _quite _as lustfully as I had first believed. He was hesitant, due to the way my teeth were baring with pure hatred.

Swallowing slowly, he dropped his head down so I was eyelevel with him, "Gabi? Are you okay…?"

I ignored him and suddenly, as swift as a hurricane, whirled around in the direction of the lake once again.

"Are you _blind _you fucking douchebags?"

All control over my emotions completely disappeared with the sun's strip of the water on my skin. I wasn't just angry; I was _fuming._ Never had I wanted to spill so much blood as I did towards the idiots who so carelessly almost ran us over. Of course, it wasn't just because of this that I had finally snapped and began to sprint towards the water's edge. The pent up frustration I had over how much I wanted Troy and the situation that we were in completely lost added to my rage.

Tiny splinters of stones dug into my feet as I barreled towards the water's edge – my eyes blackened and deadly.

"You think that was funny? You _assholes_!"

I was delusional – maybe it was being in the sun for too long again. Whatever the reason, my hysterics failed to cease. Crazed, I bent down to scoop a jagged rock. Even if the boat could no longer be seen apart from the flicker of a white dot in the vast of brown, I heaved my fist behind me and chucked the stone into the air. It didn't get very far, not that I cared, for it dropped back into the water with a "kerplunk".

Maybe he had been too shocked by my hysterics, or maybe he just finally realized what I was doing. Whatever reason, Troy was suddenly at my side as I lifted the second piece of ammo with poison leaking down the side of my face, concocting with my sweat.

"Gabi… Gabi… _Gabi stop_!"

Troy's hand was pushing against mine, two forces fighting for control. I was suddenly grunting and groaning, attempting to push back whatever restrain he was keeping me in. Obviously, with the build of his biceps that only grew stronger with age, he won. But I was too hardheaded to accept this.

"You fucktards!"

"_Gabriella_!" Troy shouted to gain my attention, "Gabriella… they're long gone… cut it out!"

"_No_!" I screeched, digging my nails into his palms to release the rock.

"Gabriella, stop." He finally let go and forced the stone to clatter to the gravel below, blending into the mass of gray and white. Before I could protest or grab another, his arms were suddenly around my waist, "Calm down."

"Let… me… go!" I panted and screamed, pushing against the barrier his chest served as.

"Not until you calm down, goddammit!"

My head finally shot around so I could glare into his eyes, leaving no mercy, "Don't you _fucking _tell me what to do, Troy Alexander!"

He sighed and shook his head, but refused to allow me to continue with my tantrum. Instead, he used his iron clamp on me to his advantage, trailing his hand down my side. At first, despite my psychotic episode, I felt a tremble ripple through my body at the caution and care of his touch. Quickly, however, I realized it was anything but probing. His dark eyebrows furrowed every crevice or so and he frowned every time my stomach lurched in pain – a symptom of a bruise.

I didn't know what possessed me to do it, but when I realized his actions were purely out of my wellbeing and not of desire, I reacted on instinct.

I slapped him.

He recoiled in response, immediately unleashing me from my prison as he stumbled backwards, caught off guard. I saw a flash of his pinkened cheek before he cupped it with his palm. Bare-chested to reveal all, apart from the glinting chain that hung off his neck, his muscles twitched in an immediate reflex – fight or flight situation.

Piercing, his eye cut through me as he opened them, "What the _fuck _was that for?"

"Stop trying to be my hero, Bolton! It's fucking annoying!" I hissed.

"It's not about me being your hero." Troy growled passionately, "It's more than that and you damn well know it!"

Even in my childlike behavior, a red light was whirling around in my head. I recognized the way his eyes darkened to a deep navy, a clear sign of his devotion. Every step closer to me was more than a simple press to the ground – it was an earthquake, rumbling and thundering, shifting gravity beneath our feet and crumbling the rest of the world around us.

"No… I-I don't know…" I rebutted with a shaking voice.

"You can't avoid this anymore, Gabriella." He argued, "I know that look in your eye… you want me too."

"I'm not avoiding anything!"

"Bullshit." He husked lowly.

He couldn't hurt me again, I wouldn't allow it. However, in this state, I couldn't deny my body what it had been waiting for in the past three years that it had been without the electrify when his arms wound around my waist again. My hands, again, pushed against his chest. Just like the rock, it was suddenly a physical fight.

It was a fight a part of me wanted to lose.

"Troy…" I pleaded my last chance of keeping my heart intact.

"Don't fight it." He whispered, his grip tightened on my waist, and his lips found mine.

I was frozen in place, preparing myself for the onslaughter of the pain that, at one point, burst within my heart and only left a scar now. As Troy's palm fanned out on the small of my back, bringing my pelvis to rub against his, I quickly attempted to build an iron casing around my skin, protecting me from harm. Frantically, I tried to shove him backwards, salvaging what I could before the damage was done. He was the rock, only pulling me closer when I resisted.

That was, until the spark that flickered between our lips suddenly caught ablaze.

It was difficult to describe, but something from within stirred. Neither was it my sixteen year-old self nor was it the natural woman in me desiring a man. This was different, digging deeply into my core and began to slowly pulsate through the rest of my body. It wasn't quite lust and it wasn't quite want – it was something more powerful beneath the surface. I couldn't describe it, but somehow, oxygen and hydrogen didn't fuse into water as naturally as the way I fit into the crevices of him.

It wasn't until Troy's tongue hungrily swept across my lips that I realized what that emotion was.

Love.

Suddenly, I awoke from my restraint and reached up to grab his face. This was _him_: Troy Bolton, the man I was in love with and had always been in love with. Startled by my rapid shift in demeanor, he jumped, but then matched the intensity as I deepened the kiss by pulling the back of his neck downwards. I had a physical _need _to touch every inch of his body, therefore arched my back until I could press myself against him, bare-chested to nearly bare-chested. I couldn't stifle the moan that whimpered through the back of my throat when my hands fisted into his chestnut hair.

Our kisses were feverous and desperate, both discovering and rediscovering each other. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him a better access to flicker in and out of my mouth with his tongue. His hands rushed up and down my back and threaded between the tie of my swimsuit. I was too busy to react; there were more important matters to worry about, like the way his muscles clenched and tightened around me every time I touched him or kissed him the way he liked. Soft groans were humming from within his body.

Finally, he released my lips for a breath of air and then some. We were heaving, rubbing each other raw with our torsos. His forehead was suddenly against mine, but I was too lost to actually look up into his eyes. All I knew was that the inches between us were too unbearable.

"Gabi… Gabriella, look at me…"

I didn't. Instead, I grabbed his face again and kissed him soundlessly.

My elbows rested upon his shoulders and my hands dove to the top of his head, forcing him to bend over me while still remaining in a stance. The kiss was so much more than probing – it was a necessity. I _needed _to remember what this felt like and how much I had been missing in the time that we had been apart. He was suddenly my flavor favorite of drug, without the mortality, but just as addicting.

It soon became too difficult to kiss when my face buried itself into his neck, still cradling his head with my palms. I was thankful that he was keeping hold of me so tightly, for I was trembling violently. I could feel his lips against my neck, too fiercely to be showering, but not quite hard enough to be nipping. Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing and fighting back the tears that wished so desperately to fall. Had I not been such a hardheaded person to begin with, I would have started sobbing – this was everything I had ever wanted.

"Gabi…" he whispered, sucking against my shoulder, "Gabi…"

I responded to his call by digging my nose into his neck.

Opposite to before, Troy attempted to pull me away from him, but I held tighter. Yet again, he had much more strength than I did and pealed my arms from his head. I wasted no time to crush them around his torso, but he managed to capture my chin with one hand to force me to look at him. The other looped around my waist.

"Jesus…" His forehead again fell onto mine again.

His palm curved around my cheek, tender and soft. I leaned into it, breathing in his scent and the way that his thumb gingerly stroked over my skin. My hand gripped his wrist, molding it into place.

He was watching me carefully, waiting for my rejection. It never came, obviously. I suddenly realized how stupid I had been trying to shove him away. After the nights we had spent in each other's arms and the days that passed when he would so casually drop by my front door came back with a rushing intensity. For a moment, I forgot that there even _was _a new Troy. As I looked up into the crystal of his eyes, I realized that he was just Troy, and that's all I ever really needed.

"Are you going to throw anymore rocks now?" He asked with a chuckle.

I shook my head, but remained speechless. I didn't want to spoil the moment with my words.

"Say something." He whispered softly, brushing my hair back behind my ears.

There was nothing to say. Instead, I leaned my head forward until it connected with his chin. I could almost feel him smiling as he kissed my forehead and then leaned down so we were eye level again.

"We should get back and find the others." He mumbled.

Finally, I grabbed his face again and brought his head just above mine.

"I don't give a shit about them right now…come here…" I muttered and kissed him soundlessly once again.


	9. Thalamus

**A/N: I honestly don't know how to thank all of you for the support and response I've gotten for this story. This has seriously far exceeded my expectations of how you guys are taking it. Just... thank you so much for allowing me to share this with you. You guys are amazing.

* * *

**

"Memory is deceptive because it is colored by today's events."

~Albert Einstein~

* * *

In the next two days, I decided to commence a goal that was the complete opposite of what I first set out to do upon arriving at the cabin: spend as much time with Troy Bolton as humanly possible.

"Troy… mmm…Troy…" I moaned softly as my fingers slowly drew circles around the back of his scalp, massaging tender points. However, I found it difficult to maneuver my hands due to the fatigue that spread over my body.

"God, I love the sound of that." He murmured into my ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking on it hungrily. I would have reacted more if my eyes weren't already half closed, preparing for sleep.

Tauntingly, I felt his hand begin its journey as it snuck its way from my kneecap up my thigh. My entire body was under the command of his magical fingers and I couldn't help but increase the pulsation of my hips from beneath his, my legs widening with every inch he stroked. His pelvis was between my parted legs and I was leaning back against the pillows of the couch –the arm was keeping me in the limbo between a seated position and a completely horizontal angle. It allowed Troy a better access to pleasure the lower half of my body while still attaching his lips to mine.

Needless to say, we weren't exactly hiding our want for the other after we kissed by the lake that afternoon.

"You taste like bug spray." Troy commented randomly, licking the long surface of my neck before suckling his lips to it and contradicted his words. He pushed up beneath my boxer shorts and squeezed the joint that connected my thigh to my waist. Moaning, I attempted to open my leg further so his ministrations would turn towards an organ in my body that was calling to him, but he merely chuckled and rubbed the waistband of my thong between his fingertips.

My lips grazed the surface of his forehead, "Then why are you still trying to give me a hickey if I taste so bad?" I whispered, with my eyes closed in pure bliss, kissing his hairline.

The hand that was playing beneath my shorts crept up the side of my bare stomach and reached for my sports bra. My head threw back in pure ecstasy, giving him an easier access to the plane of my skin.

I heard his chuckle, low and husky, in my ear, "That's why."

I was happy we were no longer in high school – we completely skipped over the awkward "I like you and I want to kiss you but I don't want to offend you" phase. The unforgettable summer – no pun intended – had had a slow start, due to the fact that both of us had fallen for each other over the course of sophomore year and we were finally breeching the line between friendship. He had been eager, but he hadn't wanted to lose me. It was in the latter half of the summer that suddenly the physicality between us exploded.

This, however, was different. We were older and more mature, therefore not run off of hormones but much less restricted to pleasing each other. If I learned anything from college, it was that hook ups were as common as skipping classes and one had to embrace the moment for what it was. This worked in my advantage, for I didn't have to make an excuse for how much I wanted him - given that he had no idea I was used to this position between us.

Troy's lips were suddenly nipping against the exposure of my chest my sports bra created. There was a sense of something I couldn't really describe into mere words that rushed through my body. With Chris and the other meaningless guys I had given permission to touch me in such a way, they seemed to be stroking and kissing and caressing for one sole reason: for my panties to drop. But with Troy, there was a sense of worship in the way his eyes were folded to a close and the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. It seemed that Troy was truly _enjoying _what he was doing to me. He wasn't expecting me to begin to begin my ministrations on his body. Every time I cupped his chin to reach up and kiss me, he tenderly swatted my hands away until our fingers laced together and fell against the pillows, squeezing.

Suddenly, a rushing noise exploded from above. I jumped, which ultimately made Troy's head bounce against my clavicle. It was lucky that I actually had natural cushion for Troy to fall upon, for his chin jerked to the fabric of my top. Instead of acting through his arousal at where his face landed, his eyes peered upwards simultaneously with mine. We both held our breath as footsteps rumbled against the ceiling, indicating whoever was returning from their midnight bathroom break was on the way back to the safety of their bed. By the time the door closed, my fingers were running through Troy's hair in a soothing manner. Sure, the rest of the gang knew we had reunited – or just united, however you looked at it – but I wasn't comfortable with them knowing we were having midnight make out sessions down in our bed settings.

Troy let out a breath of air when he thought it was safe, lifting his eyes to mine. Slowly, he pushed up on his arms until he was hovering a mere inch above my mouth, "What time is it?" He mumbled before kissing me softly.

I was tired, obviously, but the idea of going to bed while Troy was atop my straddling legs seemed idiotic. Starting from his shoulders, I traced the grooves and crevices of his biceps - his shiver made me feel powerful.

Finally, I found the strength to reach to the ground and fumble around until I retrieved what I thought was my cell phone – it ended up being his.

"Ummm…oh…!" I jumped when Troy's tongue flicked over my earlobe, "Two fifty-four."

"Fuck…" He groaned, a rumble vibrated against my chest as he brought himself forward to stare into my eyes again, "we should sleep."

Despite my inner body's plea to listen to him, I shook my curls, rubbing the back of my head against the cushions, "Don't be responsible…" My whisper was as tempting as I could make it. Teasingly, I leaned up on my elbows and press together – cheek to cheek. I watched as his bright eyes fluttered closed and his nose softly caressed beneath my eyelid. Sneakily, I cupped the back of his neck and tried to bring him closer.

A warm breath blew over my face as he let out a low chuckle, "I don't want any of them bitching about us being loud."

I kissed the side of his mouth, "We can be quiet-"

"Gabi," my name was strong on his lips, "there's no fucking way I'm gonna be quiet with you."

This comment, no matter the raunchiness of it, made me blush with pride.

Slipping into the division of the couch and my back, I felt a protective arm drape around my stomach. The blanket also rose upon our bodies, covering us from the complications of the outside world. Due to my fatigue, I couldn't bother to fight back. Instead, I nestled into his chest and allowed him to rest his bicep beneath my head – a far more comfortable pillow.

His fingers brushed through my hair until he finally leaned over and kissed my temple, "Night, Gabi."

"Promise me-" I was cut off by the yawn that released.

"Promise you?"

I smiled to myself and laced my fingers between his, "Promise me we'll be alone tomorrow."

There was another kiss in my hair before I heard the two words that would finally allow me to sleep.

"I promise."

* * *

It was a promise he couldn't keep.

I should have known, given that we hadn't been drinking for the past few days, Sharpay would have soon fished out her tequila from one of the four obnoxiously large suitcases just before dinner. Chad and Jason had looked eager to return to the partying ways. Taylor, the responsible one, had simply rolled her eyes and continued to chop lettuce for her salad. Zeke had been indifferent and I had barely registered Troy's reaction, for his hands had been too busy holding my stomach from behind and digging his nose into the curve of my neck.

"You two should fuck."

I rolled my eyes, not expecting anything less from the boy swaying before me. In my hands, a soccer ball rotated beneath my fingers. Several paces from the fire, it was difficult to see his face, but I imagined his dark eyes were dilated and his cheeks were kissed with a pink shade.

"I thought you were the one who wanted to take my bra off." I commented teasingly, dropping the ball at my feet and balancing it on the tip of my toe.

Jason smirked at the memory, which looked like a cross between a rabid hyena and a child who had eaten too much candy before bedtime, "Yeah, but that was when I was in the _game…_when it was important! Duh,now I want you two to bone like before…"

"_Jason_!" I hissed with pure panic exploding from my eyes. Immediately, I whirled around to see that Troy was laughing over something he and Zeke were discussing over around the circle of the fire. Letting out a sigh of relief, I ran my fingers through my hair and shook my head slowly, "Troy and I never fucked, you understand me?" I glared at him as I faced him once again.

Tipsy, Jason's eyebrows furrowed curiously, "Yes you did! Remember? The guys… they wanted to play two on two…I walked into his room that one time and his mouth was sucking your…"

"Jason!"

"What? I saw it! I remember!" He wildly announced to the night sky.

I didn't even feel guilty when I chucked the ball into his abdomen and watched as he doubled over with groans on his lips at the impact – in fact, I was disappointed I hadn't aimed better towards his crotch. The black widows speckling across the side of the cabin cracked at the sound of his whines. First, I glanced over to see that everyone else was too intoxicated to notice the way Jason was cowering in agony and for that I was grateful. After staring at him for a few minutes, I rolled my eyes and swiped the ball away from his feet.

"You bitch." He growled as though his drunken insults would affect me.

"Can you try not to be a douche for five minutes? Kay, thanks."

He chuckled and threw an arm around me, "Babes, babes, babes… chillax."

Quickly, I shoved him off, "If you _ever _call me by a pet name again… I _will _rip off your testicles and feed them to the bears."

"That sounds painful."

The voice surprised the both of us. Immediately, I jumped backwards and crashed into a stone wall. The stone, however, decided to wrap its arms tightly around my waist and pressed a delicate kiss to the inner skin of my neck. By reflex, my fingers laced with his and felt someone dig their lips into the ponytail I was sporting.

Turning around, I looped my arms around his torso and snuggled into his sweatshirt. As I breathed in his scent – a concoction of his musky natural aroma, his cologne, and bug spray – I didn't bother questioning why this was as easy as breathing. Normally, I would not have been this comfortable with a guy I had "met" a week previously. A part of me liked to believe that there was a subconscious pull towards each other, that _my _Troy was still inside and making sure that he took advantage of this situation. We were flying from zero to sixty regarding our relationship – it was hard to put the brakes on when I wasn't falling in love him, I long passed that.

Which made him and me uneven – I was hopelessly in love with him and he was most likely just looking for ass.

I then noticed that Zeke was on Troy's rank, snickering at the pain that Jason was clearing enduring. This made my head crank around so I could see the flickers of the fire dancing off Taylor's face. My eyes narrowed – it appeared she was alone. Mentally counting, I realized that there was missing gang members. I knew Chad had gone up to lie down a half hour ago due to his consumption of hard liquor, but where was Sharpay?

"Why are you dismembering Jason's balls?" Troy asked, looking down at me with a smile crossing his face. It was ligament and untouched by alcohol.

"Because she's a bitch."

I stuck my tongue out in his direction, "It's not like he needs them anyways."

Jason sneered, "Tell your bitch to watch her back, Bolton."

I knew Jason was kidding, but I suddenly felt Troy tense around me. His foot strategically curled in front of my body, protecting me from harm. Rolling my eyes annoyingly, I kicked his shin and attempted to fight my way through his arms. However, he was immovable. His body was crouched in a fighter position and I could see the way his back, sculpted and pristine, rippled with an animalistic snarl on his lips. His eyes were bright with ice, dangerous and deadly.

"You don't fucking touch her, hear me?" Troy growled, shoving me backwards every time I stepped on his foot to stampeed forward.

"Troy, calm down. He's drunk and lonely."

This didn't cause him to simmer. However, I finally managed to shove his arm out of the way so I was standing by his side, as an equal. He was frowning, a clear sign of his irritation, but I simply crossed my arms and glowered at my friend.

"Yeah… well… well… fuck you, Montez."

With that he shoved between the two of us and stalked back towards the fire. His anger was evident – cusses and curses spilled from his lips and echoed in the chirp of the crickets. The three of us caught bemused glances at each other before Zeke stepped forward. His stance was staggered and he swayed ever slightly.

"I should… make sure he doesn't do something… you know…" He shuddered before quickly following where Jason escaped to.

My arms were still crossed when I turned to Troy, rotating the ball that sat at my feet, "Jase is one of my best friends, Troy." I told him in neither scolding nor irritation. It was a simple fact stated.

"I know." He said.

I anticipated his attempt of a swipe of my soccer ball before he actually attempted it. With skills of an athlete, I performed an intricate scissors and winded up smirking five feet away. He grinned at my smugness as I passed the ball between my bare feet.

"I feel like you have this super hero complex right now." I curved my heel and felt a ripple rage up my calf when I kicked the ball on its side and watch it speed towards an unsuspecting Troy. By athletic reflexes, he managed to cradle the sphere with the cushion of his foot. He looked up at me with a glint in his eyes, one that I easily recognized as cockiness. But there were still lines of confusion as he passed the ball back in my direction.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I shrugged, rolling the ball up and began to bounce it upon my knee, "You have this obsession to save the day. When I was dehydrated, when the kayak flipped over, and now with Jason. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, Bolton."

I was serious, but my eyes were wicked as they glanced back at him.

"I know." He assured me, "I'm not doubting."

Stepping over the twigs that separated us, I pressed the soccer ball against his defining chest and held my stance. His eyes lowered, looking through the thick frame of lashes made him appear dangerous. His fingers brushed the tips of mine, separating us from each other.

"I'd look better in spandex anyways." I teased, pushing the back further into his chest and immediately released. Spinning on my heels and smiling to myself, I attempted my best impression of a swagger while approaching the fire. It didn't take long until I felt his presence beside me again, twirling the soccer ball on his pointer finger with a smirk that could only be considered as cocky on his lips. I rolled my eyes at his actions and elbowed his bicep playfully – a gesture that reminded me of the days before our lips had first fused.

"Evans still taking a shower? Isn't that like, the fifth one today?" Troy asked when we finally made it back to the fire. The heat spilled over my face as my hand curled around the back of the mesh chair.

Zeke, the most sober of the three, shrugged.

"Maybe she'll drown."

"Don't get my hopes up."

Troy snorted and dropped the ball to his feet. However, for once, I wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, my eyes were glued on the way Taylor's head was drooping on the chair. A few hours before, I had watched her uncharacteristically drank more than she had been the past few days. Apparently, the after affects of alcohol were beginning to settle in, for her eyes were closing and her head was swiveling around on her neck. I felt sympathy – there were plenty of times when the post-drunk fatigue had settled for me as well.

"Tay?" I called softly while bending down so I was eye level with her. Having a few glasses of mixed vodka myself, my body swayed slightly and the world momentarily became light fuzz.

She looked towards me, more in focus than I expect her to be. However, her eyes still shined midnight when she rubbed her forehead, "I'm gonna go to bed."

I offered my arm for her to lean onto as she slowly rose from her seat. She didn't need it, for after a quick stagger of steps, she was able to poise herself while turning towards the entrance of the cabin. I caught a glance with Zeke who seemed to be watching her cautiously as well, before I heard the screen door rattle to a close and echoing against the crackling fire.

Sighing contently, I dug my hands into my sweatshirt pockets and stared at the flames for a long moment. A part of me was hoping that Troy, who was currently mimicking my actions beside me, would pull me close. But there was something about the innocence of our lack of contact that gave me the comfort that our relationship used to harbor – the days of our friendship. It gave me a sense of recognition and ease, that this really was my Troy instead of someone new and exciting.

"I think I'm going to get a drink." I stated candidly to no one. Jason was off to the side, attempting to poke a s'mores stick into the fire even if the marshmallow had dropped into the flames minutes before and he was just simply left with burning wood. Zeke had his phone out, most likely texting one of his college friends or potential pursuers back home. I glanced up to see that Troy had a low smirk on his face.

Not waiting for a reaction, I turned around and began to follow Taylor's footsteps in the darkness. It was difficult to be able to tell what was beneath my feet, given that the stars sparkling above did little to shine a light on my journey. Therefore, when I heard the crunch of feet behind me, I felt my entire body tense with fright and my mind already planning escape routes.

"Gabi – wait up!" There was a pant behind me. Immediately after recognizing his voice, my body relaxed and I threw my head over my shoulder to see the outline of Troy jogging behind me.

I was climbing up the porch steps when he finally caught up to me and skipped two at a time. It didn't take long before his hand so easily slipped into mine, entwining our fingers together with an unbreakable bond. My lips couldn't help themselves from smiling contently and giggling. He lifted our connection and brought it closer to the red fabric covering his chest, just above his heart. It was a simple action I was certain he didn't realize he was doing, but it induced a Pavlovian response to press my forehead against his shoulder and squeeze my eyes shut, reveling in the perfection of this moment.

We both reached for the door simultaneously. Before he could stop me, I slapped his hand away and gripped the handle of the screen door; it swung open with a loud clatter that would have certainly awoken Chad, even in his deadly sleep.

"I was gonna come back out." I assured him as he stepped through the threshold and dragged me through quickly after.

"Mmm… maybe I don't want to head back out there." Troy purred softly in my ear. Without warning, his hands were whirling me around so we were chest to chest. His lips were suddenly on mine, slowly pulsating pressure and causing my toes to curl. He tasted incredible – vodka mixed with a tang of desire.

I wasn't drunk, but I suddenly felt intoxicated. The sensation of the world spinning and jolts of adrenaline surging through my veins were nothing compared to the euphoria I felt when his arms encircled my waist. Hungrily, yet carefully, he backed me in the direction that I knew was towards the kitchen cabinets. My hypothesis was confirmed when the poke of the drawer handle rammed into the divot of my back. With my fingers running frantically through his hair and my mouth turning to access the back of his mouth better with the duels of my tongue, I felt his hand creep subtlety up my shirt and drew sloppy circles around my bellybutton ring.

"We're…finally alone…" He murmured when he came up for breath. His pelvis, hard with arousal, pushed against mine to create more friction between our bodies – electricity shooting between us. "They're too… knocked out… to notice…"

His kisses erased all coherent thoughts in my mind. He traced my jawline with his tongue until it dropped into the crevice of my neck. Without caution, I moaned and closed my eyes in bliss.

"This is like…when you took me to homecoming… and we played Halo until three while they were sleeping two feet away, remember?" I reminisced between gasps of breath.

I didn't realize my words were a mistake until I ceased to feel his nips upon my neck. Troy froze mid-suckle. At first, I was perplexed and attempted to curl my calf around his to rub my groin to his – stimulation to commence our grope. However, Troy was stone. It was then that our current situation dawned upon me – a morning sun interrupting the beauty of the night sky. Gasping, I reeled my mind for damage control while Troy lifted his eyes to mine – icy and shining with longing.

"No." He replied wryly, "I don't."

Trembling with regret, my palms cupped his cheeks. I felt my eyes smoldering into his as I tried to gather as much passion and conviction as I could muster, "Troy… I didn't mean-"

Before I could continue with my apology, his hands were suddenly running down my spine. Despite the seriousness of my slip, I shivered beneath his touch, feeling the lightning leave a trail of sharp wind over the ghost of his fingers.

"Is this," his hands dipped beneath the hemline of my shorts, "weird?"

The essence of my womanhood suddenly throbbed. There was suddenly nothing more that I wanted in this world than for him to unzip his fly and unleash what both of us _needed. _I could hear my heart thumping loudly against my chest in the blackness of the cabin. Zeke and Jason's easy conversations floating through the open windows were ignored; the stomp of feet from above went unheard. I was hanging onto every musical note that sung from his mouth, drowning in the intensity of the conversation.

I swallowed thickly, "What-?"

"You said I was like your brother." He whispered, spilling hot breath across my face, "If this is too weird, I get it."

His implications of his statement were suddenly very clear: if I was uncomfortable with our rapidly progressing relationship due to the status of best friends, he would sacrifice his desires and leave me to peace. Had I still been attempting to keep things platonic between us, it would be the perfect opportunity to save my heart from complete destruction. Common sense was reminding me that I had absolutely no idea what Troy's intentions were – whether he wished to see me after the trip was over or if he just wanted me to scream his name and then drop me – and therefore, should end things now before I was shattered once again.

Common sense was annoying.

I didn't voice my answer – instead, I slammed my lips against his and shut my eyes with a fleeting intensity. This seemed to be good enough for him, for his hands dropped lower until he was completely cupping my bare ass, frantically kneading at my skin until my legs were parted and he stood between them. We were both breathless; our fingers and legs and arms were encompassing every inch of skin we possibly could. I wanted to touch every bit of him – his eyelids, behind his ears and the divisions of his toes. No organ was less important than the other: they all compiled to create the perfect blueprint of the man that always held my heart.

"I…want you…" He breathed between ravishes of my mouth. With precise skill of a basketball player, his fingers were inching closer to the core of my pulsations. As my dampened underwear reminded me, I was more than willing to oblige.

"Troy…" I whimpered as my head slowly began to fall backwards. Too far on cloud nine, I didn't realize what I was pleading, "I lo-"

"I HATE YOU!"

My heart stopped beating when I suddenly realized the scream belonged to neither of us.

Everything suddenly happened at once. There were shutters of stamping that thundered down the steps, vibrating the very floorboards that we stood upon. I retrieved my mouth from Troy's and felt him immediately – and regrettably – swipe his grasp from the intimate regions of my body. Our heads knocked against each other as we whipped around to watch a storm explode from the entrance of the cabin. Taylor was suddenly standing there, her face contorted and menacing. It didn't appear human – instead it was snarled into a catlike slit. I felt fear and confusion rush through my veins.

That was, until Chad stepped into the dim lighting – buck naked and exposed.

I heard Troy gulp and whisper exactly what I was thinking.

"Oh _fuck_."

"Tay… Tay… calm the fuck _down_, sweetheart …" Chad rambled. By the stagger of his words and the distance of his voice, it was clearly evident that he was still hammered. His body was swaying - each foot had to continuously step onto the hardwood floorings to keep from crumbling to the ground. Beneath the inflamed afro, I could see his eyes were as black as the pits of hell and his body was flush with a white sheen – sweat. I avoided the pure display of way more than I wanted to see of one of my best friends. Instead, I concentrated on the merciless glower of his face.

"Calm down! _Calm down?_" Taylor hissed. She looked like a stranger – twisted and foreign by hatred. Her usual collectiveness disappeared; Satin himself was not quite as cruel, "_You're fucking Ice Queen in my fucking bed!_"

"_Technically_," he emphasized in a voice that didn't sound like his, "It's my bed… or my parents… or…"

"YOU ASSHOLE!" Taylor screeched, cracking the glass upon the windows.

Troy's grip on my body tightened with horror. I returned his fright, squeezing my eyes shut and praying that this was a nightmare. Instead, when they flashed open, I was once again greeted the battle field that was about to explode.

"Taylor… babe… I'm sorry… I thought that you were done with me…"

"I _am _done with you." Taylor said, knives jabbing into his gut, "But with _her? _And in _my _bed?"

Chad suddenly took two steps forward, breaking the distance between the two. I clutched Troy's waist, feeling he was doing the same to me – waiting for the onslaught of the hurricane. Reach out, Chad attempting to cup her elbow with his palm.

Before he could, the earth rumbled with a sharp clap of Taylor's palm rubbing the skin on Chad's cheek raw with a slap. Immediately, Chad fell to the floor without a sense of balance. Neither Troy nor I moved from our frozen positions as he moaned in agony.

"Don't you _dare _touch me!" She screamed, standing above him with power and hatred. No tears slipped from her eyes, but she was just as lethal and frightening.

"…_fuck_…"

"I'm sleeping down here with Troy and Gabs. Do not say a _word _to me for the rest of the week. Understand?"

Chad moaned in response. For a moment, I thought that she was going to kick him. Instead, Taylor whirled around on her heels – a tornado ripping through the earth – and stomped in the direction of the steps to most likely gather her pillows and blankets for the fort we had harbored in, alone. For a long moment, Troy and I remained petrified in our positions, too afraid to breathe too loud or the world would collapse upon us. The only noise that could be heard were Chad's antagonizing groans and drunken clutches.

Finally, Troy then let out a breath of frustration, "There goes our privacy." He whispered painfully.

And for that, I selfishly hated Sharpay Evans even more than I had before.


	10. Temporal Lobe

**A/N: ****I don't know why this chapter didn't show up for some of you at first... so I apologize for the confusion by reuploading it. This is not a new chapter, but hopefully this solves the temperamental attitude of this site. I knew one day I'd break it. Thank you SO MUCH for everyone who reviewed the chapter before. I wish I could have saved them because you all had awesome feedback, but I'd rather have more people read the chapter than have more reviews. Thank you so much... the next chapter will be out sooner than anticipated due to the time crunch.  
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**I finished writing this story last night, there are going to be a total of thirteen chapters. Thank you so much for reading and for the incredible response. I hope you like this chapter.**

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"Memories may fade as the years go by but they won't age a day."

~Michelle C. Ustaszeski~

* * *

"On a scale of one to ten, how much of an asshole am I?"

I kicked a rock with my sneaker, watching it roll until it bounced on a sturdy root and disappeared into the thick vegetation that rimmed the edges of the trail. For a long moment, I simply stared after the ghost of the stone, tilting my head ever so slightly to test if I could see the dull surface any longer. Of course, in the dirt, it was impossible to find – lost in the foundation of the earth, but not altering the scheme of the world.

Swallowing slowly, I peered up to see Chad was staring down at me with both self torture and question. His ringlets were held into place by a bandana that wrapped tightly around his head. I sighed and was thankful that the sun was hidden behind the clouds that morning. It wasn't quite as scorching as the past twelve days we had been at the cabin, but still warm enough that my black beater and red shorts clung to my body.

"On a scale of one to ten?" I asked, running my fingers over the sticky surface of my arm and shrugged, "About a thirty-nine."

"Fuck." Chad let out a breath and allowed his head to snap back until it connected with the bark of a tree.

The best friend in me wanted to feel sympathy towards his angst. The lines that had permanently stretched across his face in the past three days since "The Incident" – the title Troy and I labeled the argument we witnessed – occurred. In that time, the second Cold War had burst between the shackles of the cabin. After Chad woke up that next morning with a throbbing headache and his stomach rejecting any food he attempted to keep down, he had attempted to make amends with the still fuming Taylor. Of course, being as hardheaded as she was, she refused to even look at him. Since then, a sinister tension slithered between the legs of the occupants in the cabin. Everyone else had felt it – apart from Sharpay, who was completely oblivious that she was the cause. If not, then she just didn't care that she had ripped them apart.

Chad blinked several times, avoiding my gaze as he ran his foot over the bumpy surface of the dirt floor. Gentle leaves hanging from the trees danced politely in the careful breeze. Although I was content with the weather not threatening to suck me dry of liquids as it had last week, I couldn't deny that I was disappointed I couldn't spend the day in the sunlight. We were to leave in two days – only forty-eight more hours until reality was bestowed upon me once again.

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned as my sneakers began to press forward once again. Chad immediately jumped from his position against the tree and followed my direction back to the cabin – back to where my heart was aching toward.

He sent me a sad smile, "I'm scared." He teased, bumping my shoulder against his.

"Why'd you do it?"

I didn't know if he was expecting this question or if he had just been asking himself this very thing since he sobered up. Without hesitation, he shrugged his muscular shoulders and glanced down at me – a burnt gaze smoldering and hot.

"Gabs, I was smashed." He reminded me, though I didn't need it. The image of his penis standing at attention was forever scarred into my mind, "I went upstairs to sleep it off and the next thing I knew, the bitch's lips were on my…"

"Okay, okay… I don't need the commentary." I placed my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to block out all images of a very naked Sharpay Evans sprawled out all over Chad's body. Creaking an eyelid open again, I looked to see that his brows were pulled together in judgment, "You still knew what you were doing, Chad."

The twigs beneath our feet snapped in synchrony. I began to recognize the specifics of the atmosphere: the perfect alignment of the knots in the trees and the thinning of the forest. In anticipation, my heart began to hammer against my chest at what I knew was waiting for me just beyond the corner.

"I didn't think she'd flip shit. Honestly, I didn't think about her at all." Chad confessed, hiking the shorts up further on his hips, though still letting the boxer hemline show, "It's college…people fuck each other all the time."

"Tay's just not into that sort of thing though, Chad. You of all people know that." I reminded him softly, pushing back a branch to clear the way, "Sex isn't casual for her. Besides, I wouldn't want Chris fucking someone in my bed. That's just weird."

Chad turned to me with a raised eyebrow, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

For the first time since we left for our walk, Chad smiled his bright grin at me, "What's your opinion of hooking up?"

I knew where this was leading before he said anymore – it had been consuming my thoughts for the past few days. Obviously, ever since the poker game, my body wanted Troy Bolton – all of Troy Bolton. The lack of privacy these past few days only intensified my need to be in his arms once again. We barely had had any time alone since The Incident due to the fact that the gang was constantly shuffling between two groups: one focusing on spending time with Chad and the other with Taylor. We took even shifts, but somehow it always managed to arrange itself so Troy and I were split up. Of course, given that we now had a new addition to our slumber parties, the tension and longing between us was breeching unbearable.

We both wanted each other; it was obvious in the way that we caught lustful glances. The only restraint I had was what would happen after we reached cohesion.

Looking up into the gray sky, I sighed once again, "I've hooked up with guys when I haven't been in relationships, but I would never have sex with anyone I didn't love."

"But if you loved them, you'd fuck them." Chad said cheekily.

I knew my thoughts were slutty – I had only been reacquainted with Troy for less than two weeks and I already wanted him in my pants. But there was an undertow of something more than just a saucy booty call. The love that had been dormant within me suddenly flowed easily through my veins. It was as though time had never lapsed; the summer that we had fallen in love was as close as it ever had been before.

"In theory, yes."

Snickering, Chad bumped my elbow again, "I'll be sure to pass on the message."

I smacked the back of his head, which was useless given that his coils absorbed most of the contact, "Don't you dare-"

My threat was useless, however, when we finally stepped off of the path and into the clearing that I knew so very well. The cabin stood as it always had, but of course, that's not what captivated my attention. Instead, I was focused on the figure that sat upon the porch – the position of his body behind the pillars that held up the fence made him appear as though he were in prison. As always, Chad faded in the distance of trees and brush when I watched the shadow's head snap at the sound of my crunching against the ground.

Troy immediately shut whatever magazine he was reading – Sports Illustrated, I'd presume – and rattled the wood that adorned the cabin when he jumped to his feet. I felt a magnetic pull within my chest as he hurried towards the steps, leaping down two at a time. Matching his desperation, my strides lengthened until I was sprinting across the driveway, avoiding Taylor's parent's SUV. I didn't know what I was running for – more time to be in his arms or because I missed him so much. It didn't matter; before long, my arms were thrown around his neck and he was arching his body to press against every inch of me.

I buried myself within him for idiotic reasons. My conference with Chad hadn't lasted very long, but I felt that time was precious these days. I didn't know Troy intentions – I would deal with the consequences of this at a later date. For now, being separated from him for so long and the lack of solitude between us made every reunion memorable. He felt it too; I could tell by the way his arms were crossed on my lower back and gripping my hips. His face was in my neck, moving his lips in a motion that wasn't quite a kiss, but just as intimate.

Smiling and closing my eyes, I rubbed my forehead against his chin to silently inform him how incredible this moment felt for me. Troy folded me closer – if that was even possible – into his chest.

"Hey…" He mumbled into my ear and chuckled at the simplicity of his greeting in comparison to the passion of the hug.

"Hi." I whispered back and felt the magnets within us realign. This time, they pulled between our mouths – never once did either of us look at each other nor did we pull away before my tongue was in a war with his. Instead, we dragged our lips until we were fused.

It didn't take long until my bones became jello. His hands were suddenly in my hair, massaging deep circles against my scalp. To return the stimulating favor, I pressed my middle finger in the center of his back – above his blue t-shirt – and slowly began to outline each and every division in his spine. He trembled beneath my touch, making me feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time.

It wasn't until an obnoxious cough echoed from behind that I remembered where I was and who was in our presence.

"Really, guys?" Chad whined with a snicker when my head whirled around and my long locks smacked against Troy's chin. By the way his white teeth showed brightly against his dark skin, I knew he wasn't upset with our public display of affection – rather, pornstar-worthy make out session.

"Fuck off." Troy didn't release me, or even bother to loosen his grip for that matter. Instead, his head dipped to my shoulder and began to pepper sweet kisses to the exposure of my skin. However, I did feel a momentary wash of cool breeze when Troy lifted his hand. I didn't have to look behind me to know that he was giving Chad the finger.

However, instead of returning the insult, I suddenly heard a stampede against the gravel. Before I could gasp or brace myself for the onslaught, a brick wall crashed into my back. For a moment, the wind was knocked out of me, but then I felt the warm embrace of Chad holding both of us tightly from behind my back. Giggling hysterically, I couldn't catch my breath and was thankful that I was sandwiched between the two, or I would have toppled over in uncontrollable laughter.

"Chad!"I complained, wiggling between them. Troy was laughing just as much as I was, but still possessively pulling me closer, "Let go!"

"I wanted to feel the love too!" Chad sung before ruffling the top of my head. I tried to slap him away, but unfortunately my hands were still wrapped tightly around Troy's waist – not that I wanted to let him go anyways.

"Dude… you're so fucked up." Troy grumbled in my ear, but still nuzzling the top of my head.

"It's the three of us again, just like old times."

My eyes immediately closed at the statement. On cue, I felt Troy's body stiffen at the reference to the life he never knew. Chad couldn't feel the shift of air, but I did – I was slammed with the pain as though it belonged to me. My fingers ran over the surface of his back, trying to soothe the tension that poisoned his definition. Attempting to peer up at him, I could only see the shadows of the chin he had tucked me under. I kissed his Adam 's apple to let him know I was here; that I wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you think she can breathe down there?" Chad asked teasingly. I did my best to try and kick his shin from behind, but failed and only managed to twist my leg between his.

Finally, Chad released me from the prison he had kept me in. It took a few more seconds before Troy found the strength to let me go. I didn't move at first, but then realized that we couldn't stand here forever. It almost hurt to pull away from him and receive a weak smile – a pathetic assurance that he was okay. Our hands, simultaneously, reached for each other's and laced between the divisions of our fingers: a perfect fit.

Troy looked up at his best guy friend and nodded his head towards the front door, "You think it's safe in there, man?"

Chad met his gaze for a long moment before he simply shrugged, indifferently.

"Doesn't really matter, does it?"

With that, he spun towards the screen door and took a deep breath before he stepped inside, a solider ready for battle.

"I give it two minutes before pans are thrown." I mumbled under my breath.

With a sigh, Troy turned and pressed his lips to my forehead, "I'll protect you."

A long smirk drew over my cheeks, "Not if I protect you first."

* * *

"Am I distracting you?" Troy's voice whispered softly into my ear. It was a tone a recognized – partial teasing, partial concern.

I smiled softly and shook my head before turning the page in my novel. We were entwined on the couch: my legs weaved between his thigh, my back resting against the arm of the furniture, and his arm encircling my waist. Every so often, his fingers would push the cascading curls falling down my shoulders aside and would nip endearingly behind my ear. This would induce giggles, but I tried my hardest to remained focused on my book – I didn't want to give him the ultimate satisfaction of knowing that he could simply control all of my thoughts with longing touches. However, this restraint was getting increasingly difficult as he began to stroke the top of my head, resting his elbow on my shoulder.

"You're fine." I promised and furrowed my eyebrows once again, attempting to concentrate on the words that were spelled out before me. Instead, they were being read, but not processed. I was too busy feeling the tingles rush down my side as Troy's fingers drew soft circles against my hip.

"I kinda hope they get lost out there." Troy commented candidly, referencing the fact that Jason, Chad and Sharpay had decided they were going to head down to the edge of the lake and pray that the sun would eventually break the cloud cover. Of course, Taylor had refused to go anywhere with Barbie and Chad, therefore she had opted to stay behind. Zeke offered to keep her company - given that Troy and I had already declined with a hope of getting time alone, I figured Taylor hadn't wanted to be a third wheel.

Giggling, I caught a glance to the side to see him looking at me with pure devotion, "That's not very nice."

He shrugged, making my body rise as well, "I wanted to be antisocial."

"Then maybe you should go lock yourself in one of the bedrooms." I teased with a playful nudge of my elbow against his abs. It did little to harm him – his muscles were steel.

"Shut up." He growled in my ear before nipping upon it.

"You don't have to sit here, you know." I offered quietly, peering up from my pages to see that his forehead was resting against my temple. I felt shivers rush through me and succumbed to nuzzling against him as well, "Watching me is probably boring…and if you wanna talk to… to Zeke… and…"

My voice was trailing with every kiss he pressed to neck. I could hear him chuckling lowly in my ear, but my eyes instinctively fluttered closed as I turned toward him. The low hum of Zeke and Taylor's discussion at the kitchen table – most likely about a certain fuzzy haired friend – faded in the blend of Troy's gentle moan.

"Definitely. Not. Boring." He said between kisses before his lips sought mine. Immediately, my hand cupped his cheek to bring him closer. The novel dropped into my lap as my other hand threaded into the back of his hair. Our lips moved slowly, but not cautiously. We were enjoying the brief moments of isolation from the rest of the world – even if our friends were sitting a few feet away from us.

He broke the kiss before I could really consume myself with it. I don't know how or when it happened, but Troy had magically managed to wiggle his way so that we were both lounging in a position that wasn't quite sitting nor was it horizontal. All I knew was that his torso was between my split legs and his eyes were dark with desire – azure with allure.

"Come with me tonight." He passionately requested, his fingers threading between mine.

I bit my lip at the sexual inclination of that statement, "What does 'coming' entail, Mr. Bolton?"

He flashed me a smile that dripped with eroticism, swooping his head lower until his lips were mere millimeters away from mine, "Whatever you want it to." He then kissed me slowly.

Responsibility was screaming at me to push him off and to keep it in his pants, but the wild sixteen year-old that thrived off of memories of Troy's embrace shushed all mentions of doubt. Obviously, due to the way he was so causal about intimacy, it was clear that he wasn't looking for anything special. But I couldn't help but _feel _special when I was with him. The twinkle in his eyes, like at that moment, was enough to hypnotize me into having all of him, like my heart and body wanted. It was my head that was attempting to flash painful images of his scarred face in the hospital and reminded me of the emptiness in his voice when he asked who I was.

I swallowed thickly and switched my attention between both of his irises. He was holding his breath, for his chest stopped moving up and down, waiting for my verdict.

"Troy," reason attempted to surface as I placed my hand on his shoulder, "I don't know if it's-"

"Gabi," he breathed my name exactly the way he had when he was in love with me, "We only have two nights until we head back.."

"I don't-"

"_Gabriella_," persuasion and passion dripped through his tone, "it doesn't have to be messy," he was referencing sex, "but please… I don't want interruptions and I don't want people fucking screaming about shit I don't care about. I just want, for one night… for you to be mine."

I wanted to tell him I had _always _been his. Time hadn't changed that.

"Please," he whispered again, never once faltering his gaze from mine, "There's only us tonight. No one else…"

I deliberated the possibilities as quickly as possible. If I agreed to go with him – where ever the hell he had planned – then I was running the risk of crushing my heart again. It certainly wouldn't be his fault; it would be mine, for allowing him to use my body in only satisfaction and then tossing it away like yesterday's garbage. But another side of me, a deeper side, saw the way his eyes were glowing with adoration. He just promised that if I didn't want to have sex, we didn't have to. There were no expectations other than he wanted to be with me and no one else was to be around. It was what I was wishing for since The Incident occurred, why would I deny myself of that?

Taking a deep breath, I leaned up upon my elbows to allow myself access to press my lips to his. It wasn't a peck nor was it a French, but it was soft and tender enough to make him smile brightly into the kiss, making it difficult to continue.

"Where are we going?" I asked when we broke apart. Troy chuckled and slowly brought himself back so he was in a fully seated position once again. He brought me with, sprawling my legs over his lap and still keeping a hand stationed on my hip.

"I could tell you… but that wouldn't be as fun."

I slapped his chest, "You're such a dick."

"You want my what?"

Rolling my eyes, I wiggled out of his grasp and placed my hands just above his shoulders, caging him in, "Keep dreaming." He looked up at me with a smirk, making me peck his lips once again before I found the strength to finally turn back to see Zeke and Taylor were still huddled over at the kitchen table, "What time do you want me ready?" I asked without glancing down at him. His fingers grazed the back of my palm, but didn't grab it or make a motion to capture my attention again.

"Eight-thirty," he answered, "and wear something comfortable."

The idea of being able to be in comfortable clothing suddenly eased my nerves. Still not glancing at him, I suddenly removed my hand from his and began a slow walk in the direction of the kitchen. The words and phrases being mumbled at the table could soon be distinguished when I finally made it to my destination, placing my hands onto the back of the chair and squeezing the rungs tightly. Neither looked up, nor acknowledged me.

"I just don't think that it was necessary, don't you?" Taylor's eyes were black and sharp – drilled upon Zeke, though completely dry.

"He was drunk, Taylor. You have to remember that."

Her jaw ground – I thought she was going to unleash her claws, "That does _not _excuse him from doing her in _my _bed."

I didn't think either of them noticed my presence - so I nonchalantly bumped the furniture to gather their attention.

"Gabs!" Zeke jumped as soon as I smiled innocently at the two, finally capturing their attention. Taylor seemed less impressed with my actions; the scowl on her face still glowered in the dark room. The sun still hadn't come out yet, giving the atmosphere a chilly vibe, "You scared me."

"Whatcha guys talking about?" I asked, my voice being way too bubbly for my own good. On the couch, I heard the low sound of Troy's chuckle. For a brief moment, I contemplated throwing something at him, but then remembered that his face was too pretty to break.

"You're asshole of a best friend." Taylor hissed, not even bothering to cover up her irritation.

"Hey, I'm in the fucking room!" Troy yelled as he stood up from the couch. My heart skipped a beat – although I knew it was a tease – when his eyes turned to me and winked, "unless you've been lying to me about our status before, you know..."

I tried not to avert my eyes in shame – I was lying, just not about what he was joking about.

"Not you." Taylor snapped.

Weaving between his duffle bag and the other couch, Troy made his journey to the table and stood opposite to me. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wood, jutting his hip out in a way that was alluring, although it wasn't meant to be. I watched as his eyes darted across Taylor's face, scrutinizing her reaction, and waited for a protest for him to leave. After all, he was closer to the enemy in her eyes than he was to her.

"Can I ask you something?" He quietly requested in the most nonthreatening voice imaginable. I did my best not to answer for her.

"If you must."

Troy curled the side of his mouth up so that he was only half smiling, "Did you really think you'd ever marry the guy?"

The question was so forward that even my eyes popped out of my head. Zeke was silent, though his expression was just as bewildered as mine. Immediately, I whipped my head around to see if Taylor would be ready to release the whirlwind of her anger once again. However, I was surprised when I was greeted with a composed façade and her gaze never faltering. Troy took advantage of the silence – he slid easily up onto the table so he was seated and placed his bare feet on the seat of a chair. I smiled at the lax demeanor he held and then turned my attention back to see Taylor fanned her fingers onto the surface of the table.

"No. We're too different." She said boldly, without hesitation or fib.

This seemed to be the answer he was searching for; his grin grew again.

"Then Tay," his voice was soft, tender. Leaning forward, he placed a peaceful palm up and reached towards her, "don't get hung up on this. You and I both know you don't want to be. You don't deserve this anger."

The way he spoke was as though he was speaking to a lover: the flickers of his eyes across her face and the gingerly aurora he held. I knew this charm well. It was persuasion – a mystical talent he didn't know he possessed, but it was lethal once it trickled from his lips.

She was looking into his eyes, hypnotized by their beauty, "In my _bed_,Troy."

He placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder, "I know, Tay. I know. He's an idiot. Don't let him get to you. Not when you know it's done."

I expected the tears to fall then, for had I been in the possession that my love –Troy – was already moving on and I was being told to do the same. But Taylor's eyes still remained white against her darkened skin. A woman of logic and reason, she simply nodded and shrugged her shoulders in acceptance.

"I was just…l was supposed to be the one to move on first." Taylor confessed silently; the competitive nature of her personality showing through.

He smiled sadly, "Love's a bitch like that. It doesn't like to let you go."

I chewed on my lip; his eyes flashed up to mine for a brief moment, burning into my soul, before turning away without another word.

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror with the nerves jittering in my stomach and my knees knobbing together so loudly I was certain they would create their own stomp group, I knew I was going to be in for it tonight.

My hair was as perfect as it was going to get – tight with curls coiled down to each strand. The color matched the black swipe of mascara and eyeliner that rimmed my eyes, making the milky brown stand out. The brown hues were a contrast to my tank top that was tight enough to highlight the curves my mother had blessed me with, but not so that I was drowning as it reached the bottom of my jean shorts. A black, zip up sweatshirt was draped across the toilet, ready if he requested we spend our precious time together outside. Of course, this attempt for beauty was practically pointless – I was trembling so hard that one would mistake me for having epilepsy.

I felt as though I was a maiden ready to be de-flowered for the first time. Actually, the only other experience I had with this pure _fear _was three years previously – standing before the mirror, just as I was now, waiting for Troy to pick me up for our very first date. My eyes fluttered to a close, remembering how he took me to dinner at my favorite restaurant and then drove me to an empty park. We sat with our feet in the rushing water of a nearby stream when his fingers first innocently slipped into mine: a commencement of our love.

How time changed.

Taking a deep breath, I placed my hand upon my chest to steady my breathing. I realized I couldn't stall any longer; Troy was waiting impatiently on the level below. Shakily, I grabbed the sweatshirt and hung it over the side of my elbow. After collecting my phone from the counter and bumping an open drawer with my hip to hear it clatter to a close, I flicked the lights off and exited the bathroom.

It was eerily quiet as I walked through the hallway leading towards the stairs. There were long shadows that drew from the opened doors. Quick on my feet, I padded across the landing quickly – even if time was standing still in my anticipation.

The stairs were glowing a hazy gold as I descended them. The heat that spelled around me increased with every step that I took. Thank god I had enough wits not to tumble down from the top. The first floor slowly began to come into view. Once reaching the bottom, I took a deep breath and washed in the silence of the early night once again. There were low hums of voices floating through the open windows – my friends by the campfire or at the picnic table, wherever the division of Chad and Taylor harbored that night. I already anticipated the awkwardness of walking up to the group and pulling Troy away.

Until I heard a soft voice from behind me, "I thought I told you not to dress up."

Like a call of my name, I twirled around towards the couch to see where the sound originated from. My heart skipped a beat when I took sight of Troy with his sneakers propped up upon the coffee table and his back slouched against the cushions. A phone was cradled between his hands, but his eyes – intensified by the black v-neck that was his shirt – were drilled upon me.

"You call this dressing up?" I asked and had the urge to cross my arms over my chest in embarrassment. I didn't, of course. I needed to be as confident as possible.

"You look amazing." He said with a twinkle in his eye and a passion in his voice.

I smiled coyly and sadly as I lingered on the phone with curiosity, "Texting your girlfriend?" I teased, though a part of me was very serious.

"How'd you guess?" He joked, but noticed the way my gaze dropped to the floor. Immediately, he shook his head and eased his cell into the pocket of his khaki shorts, "Nah. Just a buddy back in Santa Fe."

Nodding, I tried to show that I wasn't affected or doubting him. Of course, given the magnitude of the situation between us, an underlying thread of jealousy rushed through me. For all I knew, he was lying to me and he had five girls stacked up at home, waiting for him to return so he could bone them. I didn't want the possibility of that stop me from enjoying the little time I had with him though – I wanted an emotional connection anyways.

Noting my hesitation, Troy stood up and gave me a comforting smile. He didn't pause as he walked towards me and placed his hands upon my upper arms. I looked up at him; he looked down at me. A fire burst in my heart as he leaned and pressed his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensation of him lingering longer than he should have.

It was enough to comfort me that – at least for tonight – I was his.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" I asked when he pulled away and released his grip on me. He grinned cheekily and turned around, not answering my question. Lost in the way his muscles contorted beneath his shirt as he reached down, I was momentarily blinded to the two vinyl bangs he stuffed under his arms – one black, one evergreen. When I blinked, I realized they were sleeping bags.

He turned around, his grin bright and shining, motioning towards one of those cheap reusable bags one finds at a grocery store to help save the environment, "Can you grab that?"

"Are we camping?" I quirked an eyebrow, I slung the bag over my shoulder and began to follow him towards the screen door.

Shrugging with a chuckle, he turned toward me once again, "Something like that. Come on… I don't the assholes to notice we've left."

He reached his hand out for me to take – a gesture of trust. I looked at it for a long moment, realizing that this was what I had been waiting for during the three years of his absence.

Biting my lip once again, I laced my fingers with his as he led me towards the unknown.


	11. Hypothalamus

**A/N: I know I just updated... but I'm on a time crunch and need to get this out. Thank you so much for the incredible reviews - I'm seriously blow away. I hope you enjoy this chapter - have mercy, it's been awhile.**

* * *

"We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten."

~Cesare Pavese~

* * *

"If we keep walking, we're going to fall into the lake."

I heard the low rumble of Troy's chuckle from up ahead, between the threads of trees that were nearly impossible to see due to the fall of night. His voice was something to hold onto as I stumbled through the roots and brush of the earth floor below.

"We're almost there. And we're not going to fall into the lake. You'd freeze your ass off." Troy called back, his voice choppy as it bounced off the bark of the towering trunks. I thought it was a bizarre statement; despite the fact that I had now placed my sweatshirt over my shoulders due to the chilliness of the air, it was still humid. Therefore, I assumed the lake would be just as steamy. However, we _were _still in the mountains, therefore the coolness of the night would have absorbed into the water. Shivering, I remembered the imaginary icicles that froze to my skin when I fell in on multiple occasions in the two weeks that we had been there. It wasn't a place I would have wanted to slip into had my footing missed and I toppled over the tiny ridge and crashed into the water.

Hiking the bag reusable bag further up on my shoulder, I began to survey the trail with the little glow of my flashlight. It hadn't been one we had been on before: this directly swooped towards the edge of the lake and hugged the grassy shoreline. Had the moon been out and the clouds not covered the twinkling sky, it would have been easier to maneuver given that we would have had the lunar shine. I had to maintain a short distance behind Troy, for his silhouette was the only direction that I had.

I heard a shuffle before me and was then taken off guard as a light beamed into my face. Cringing away from the brightness, I cowered into the hood of my sweatshirt.

"You still with me?" Troy asked. The volume of his voice grew closer and I heard footsteps snapping twigs on the ground below. I nodded - which was pointless, I realized, since he couldn't see me – and turned back to see the curl of his lips upon his face.

"I will be if you stop trying to blind me." I snapped, though it was difficult to be in a bitter mood now that we were finally isolated from the rest of the world.

He averted the flashlight to the ground where it illuminated the stumps, bouncing its wavelengths until it gave me enough light to see his face. A grin was spread wildly across his lips and he held his hand – the one not carrying two sleeping bags and another unknown backpack – for me to take. Instead of caving to his requests and still leaving an air of hard-to-get, I simply shuffled towards him so I was quick on his heels when he turned around and continued with his quest to where ever we were headed. Surprisingly, the silence that fell between us was comforting. Of course, hearing him speak was like angels singing to the heavens, but I was perfectly content with the accompaniment of the crickets and rustles of animals around us.

My hands reached up and squeezed his shoulders from behind, "Is this the part where you take me to somewhere and pull out your knife and slice my throat so no one can hear me scream?"

This didn't surprise him, as I expected it to, but instead he threw his head back with pure amusement and a glitter in his eye, "You caught me."

I laughed and pressed my forehead between his shoulder blades. Our steps weren't hurried; although both of us were excited, I knew that we were appreciating the solitude we had. His hand crept up and grasped mine, squeezing my fingers tightly in reassurance before he dropped his clutch and carried on. I swore I heard a sigh of disappointment when I released him and quickly lengthened my stride to keep up with his quick pace.

"So how'd you even find this place?" I asked casually, trying to keep my heart from beating too quickly and giving me a heart attack.

Like the man he had become, Troy pushed back a large branch that served as a roadblock in the middle of the path. I nodded graciously when he motioned me forward. When my forearm brushed his, sparks ignited, red and hot. Quickly, I turned away before my female urges ordered me to jump upon him.

"When you and Chad were out this morning," he explained, hurrying to pull in front of me again to lead the way, "Shapray was crying over getting mascara on her shirt or whatever and demanded we do wash and shit… I couldn't handle it anymore."

"So you dipped?"

He nodded with a cheeky grin, "It was fate."

I smiled – fate seemed like a powerful word coming from a nineteen year-old boy. Troy had a way with words that I didn't quite understand. He was raunchy when he wanted to be, but always threaded with a hint of passion, a raging tone of desire whether he be discussing how I looked in the black dress I wore on our third date or how many free-throws he scored on the night of the championship. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing I was swooning, so I muffled my giggle by biting my lip.

In the thick of the trees, my flashlight suddenly beamed on something other than a branch. I furrowed my eyes at first as Troy's breath seemed to increase – out of fatigue or anticipation, I couldn't be sure. I noticed his speed began to escalade with excitement as he reached behind – blinded – and finally laced his fingers between mine. I had no choice but stutter my feet until I was peering behind his shoulder when he finally stopped, looking down at me, and waited for my judgment.

At first site, as my head lurked around the corner of Troy's shoulder, there was absolutely nothing special about the grass clearing that lay before us – that's all it really was. Apart from the occasional flicker of firefly or the soft breeze causing the blades of grass to dance between each other, nothing really jumped out about it. I wasn't quite sure what I had been expecting – maybe I wanted the stars to twinkle like Troy's eyes or for the lake to shine the moon instead of the complete black emptiness that the murk reflected as it chopped softly against the grassy shore. There were no beautifully sprouting lilacs nor were there little woodland animals creating a soundtrack of calmness by singing their pleasant tune. Quite the contrary, it was silent – a clear indication a storm was brewing.

"This is it?" I asked, trying not to sound like a Sharpay wannabe by being unimpressed. Maybe my expectations for this adventure had just been far too high – maybe I was expecting too much.

In my panging heart, I was suddenly greeted with the feeling of disappointment. I had wanted fabulous, and at first sight, this was just average. I couldn't describe it – I guess I had been expecting extravagance after Troy had hyped it up so much.

Troy stepped behind me carefully, though I could see he was watching the furrow of my eyebrows the entire time. The wind played with the strands of my hair as I brought myself further into the clearing.

Suddenly, two arms were around my waist. All thoughts of disappointment had suddenly vanished when I felt his nose bury into the depths of my neck. Softly, he kissed the bare skin with adoration.

"You're disappointed." He stated, rather than asked.

I felt guilty when I turned around in his arms and looked up into his eyes, cyan and sparkling. However, he didn't look irritated or disappointed or even hurt. On the contrary, his teeth were beaming through the blackness: our own personal moonlight. It was much easier to pinpoint actual objects in the blue sunset that was hazing through the clouds that hung from above than when we were maneuvering through the woods. Therefore, it was easy to tell that there were no lines of distress.

I sighed and ran my hands up his chest, "You just… you made it seem like something… incredible."

He gave me a smile that only curled on half of his face, "It's privacy, Gabi."

He did have a point.

I jumped when his lips pressed beneath my chin as well, "And you're here."

Had it been anyone else, I would have swooned and melted into a ball of butter in his arms. Although my heart did skip a beat at the words, I instead merely giggled and rolled up onto my tip toes. I was lucky that Troy wasn't the tallest – standing at five feet and eight inches since he was in high school, I used to make fun of him for it – because I was able to peck the bottom of his lips with a cheeky grin on my face.

"Cheesiness doesn't look very good on you, Bolton." I teased and tried to push away from his chest, however, his grasp on me was far too tight, "You've already got me here, you've got nothing else to prove."

He chuckled lowly, kissed the mess of my curls, and then unwound himself so his hand grasped mine tightly. Without a hesitation for a breath or any sign of nervousness, Troy tugged me forward. With the hand that wasn't entwined with his, I softly ran my fingers over this surface of his bony wrist. Though he didn't look at me, I could tell it brought a smile to his lips.

We stopped ten yards away from the black abyss of the water. It may not have been woodland animals, but the gentle chop against the rocky shoreline was enough to provide a lullaby. The trail we had made our journey on ran back along the edge of the trees, providing a feeling of pure isolation from the rest of the world when Troy finally released my hand.

He slipped the backpack from his shoulder and cradled it gently at his feet. I followed his lead, placing the bag down beside the backpack with tender care.

Immediately, he unrolled the first sleeping bag upon the grass, keeping it zipped up tight. I couldn't help but find myself mesmerized at the way his muscles rolled beneath his shirt as he did so. Before long, I realized the other was lying side by side with the first and he had removed several Tupperware containers from the sac I had been holding – containing various fruits, from what I could tell. There was also an amber bottle and another solid object that shined dully in the beam of the flashlight that was wedged between his teeth.

"We didn't have champagne." He confessed in a voice that hardly sounded as if he cared, "And I don't want to get fucked up with you… so I brought you water."

I rolled my eyes as I realized the glass bottle was a bottle of beer – Corona, his beer.

"How thoughtful." I teased, though was secretly smiling that he didn't want us to be drunk together. He wanted to remember this since he had no other recollection of our life together.

Troy smirked up at me – not in a way that was cocky or seductive. Instead, there was a thread of a boyish grin. For the first time all evening, I was suddenly reminded of the old Troy: the Troy I had known before the accident. There was a sense of both allure and innocence to him that he didn't even try to produce.

Never breaking my gaze, he reached over and patted the top of the barren sleeping bag, suggesting that I take a seat. However, when I looked down upon the scene, it wasn't quite perfect. The food, the lantern he had stolen and placed by the drinks, and the soft wind was not quite enough to satisfy me yet. I frowned, attempting to use my Stanford education to come up with the best possible solution to rectify this.

Suddenly, it dawned upon me.

"Stand up for a sec." I ordered, holding out my hand for him to grab. In the intimate glow of the bluish air, I could see he was quirking his eyebrows with skeptics. Nonetheless, sparks shot through my veins when his fingers bound to mine and he rose to a stance.

I wasted no time to drop to my knees and immediately get to work. Slipping on the green vinyl as I did so, I crawled over the top of the sleeping bag until my fingers were tugging down the zipper. My heart was racing the entire time – a reaction that was induced by the anticipation of being in his arms once again. When the first bag was unzipped, I scurried over to the second and began to repeat the action.

While half way through, I felt a burn of eyes against my back. Turning around, I caught sight of Troy licking his lips in an impossible way that didn't appear raunchy – even if the action was.

"Staring at my ass?" I joked, expecting him to turn away or deny it.

Therefore, I was utterly surprised when he responded huskily, "Absolutely."

I could feel heat rise to my cheeks and stain them pink.

Finally, I managed to undo each zipper and laid one sleeping bag on top of the other – one acting as a mattress and the other as a blanket. When I turned around to see Troy's reaction, I could tell there was a slight war raging through him. His arms were folded, biceps budged, with a sense of refusal. However, as I looked deeply into the turquoise corners of his eyes, I could see desire leaking through in bright pools. Without a word, I lifted my hand up and wiggled my fingers, requesting for him to join me.

Never once faltering from his gaze, he extended his hand and clasped to mine.

"You're not gonna be weirded out by this?" He asked, glancing down into the single sleeping area instead of the two that had previously inhabited the grass.

I brought him to his knees with a tug of my hand. Gingerly, my palms cupped his face. This created a trigger of reflex, causing his to land upon the curves of my hips. He pulled me tightly against him: pelvis to pelvis. It wasn't an action created to stimulate sexual urges – though I could feel a fire burn between my legs that was aching desperately for him. Instead, it was a gesture of closeness and intimacy.

"It's not like I've never slept with you before." I responded, referencing the nights before The Incident occurred and I fell asleep in his arms. However, pangs of guilt pulsated through me once again when I realized the other connotation of the word was true as well. He just didn't know it.

His lips then found mine. It was a gentle kiss, one that started from his heart and ended in mine. Gently combing his fingers just behind my ear, he brought my face closer, yet refused to deepen the embrace. Every so often, his mouth would squeeze against mine, but his tongue remained locked within his. I liked it- it was different from the desperation that was so common between us. He was taking his time, enjoying the way my figure shaped perfectly against his and the gentle massages my fingers curled on his scalp.

We pulled apart reluctantly. Neither was breathless, the kisses were too soft for that. But the way he looked at me with such devotion and adoration was enough to strip me of oxygen.

"You hungry?" He purred in my ear and then dropped a kiss beneath my lobe. Food was the last thing on my mind.

I rubbed my forehead against his temple, "Not really."

I could hear him smile against me, "Well I'm starving."

"We just ate!" I reminded him of our dinner of cheeseburgers and brats.

"Think of it as round two."

Troy finally let me go and leaned back towards the lantern. I took the opportunity of his eyes on something else to fix the curls in my hair and focus on keeping my tank top from rumpling even more than it already had. Once satisfied, I turned back to see that Troy was uncovering the tops of the plastic containers.

"So, I just sorta threw a bunch of shit together." Troy confessed when he finally looked back at me with a smile, "Come here."

Before I had time to react, he grabbed my waist again and easily picked me up until I was nestled between his legs – my back to his front. I hadn't had time to yelp in surprise before he kissed the bare skin on my shoulder where my zip up was falling off. Grinning, I leaned back into his chest and closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation of being this close to the man I was so deeply in love with. For a moment, I slipped away from reality and fell into a heaven I didn't know existed until then. Everything in my body was electrocuted into an over sensitivity of emotions and sensations. I never wanted this moment to end.

"Thank you." I whispered after a long draw of silence and squeezed his fingers

"For what?" He mumbled back.

Turning around to face him, I cupped his sturdy jaw line and whispered, "for everything" before I kissed him soundlessly once again.

* * *

"I have a theory."

Rubbing my cheek against the fabric of his shirt that was covering his chest, I peered upwards to see him gazing down at me with an unrecognizable look twinkling in his eyes.

"You have a theory?" I asked, drawing a tiny heart on the inside of his wrist.

He nodded and nuzzled his nose against my forehead, "I have a theory."

We were tangled between the sleeping bags, finding that every position we adjusted ourselves into still created the same comfort and ease as the last. Currently, we were both horizontal – our legs wound around the other's and our heartbeats bumping in synchronization. However, we hadn't been this way for very long. In fact, there wasn't one exact spot we could remain in. There seemed to be a cycle we had been partaking in: cuddle, kiss, pet, stroke, grope, breathe and cuddle again. Each time our make out sessions recommenced, we'd brush further, kiss deeper and push the boundaries ever so. Our clothes were crinkled and our hair was rumpled, but I wouldn't have asked for anything more perfect than that clearing.

"Can I hear this theory?" I softly brushed his bangs aside so I could see the twinkle in his eyes that was brighter than any hidden star in the sky that night. My hand failed to stop there, however. I cupped his jaw and ran my thumb over his cheek.

He smiled at me coyly: an emotion I wasn't quite used to receiving from his normally flamboyant personality.

"I don't want to weird you out." He responded and dragged his lips against my forehead. Passionately, I rolled up so I could brace myself against his pecs and look at him more clearly. Troy, however, kept his arms tightly around my waist; which ultimately caused me to straddle his thigh.

"Please, just tell me." I begged with my best lip pout I could muster.

Troy swallowed thickly and dug his fingers into my hair, massaging my scalp with an even ease.

"I think I was in love with you."

I suddenly froze.

My veins suddenly crystallized over with ice, cracking each blood cell with an ear splitting shatter. Immediately, the world around me crumbled. With a jaw suddenly unhinged and my eyes wide with horror, I felt as though the barrier I had shielded my heart with washed away with his words. He knew – it was suddenly incredibly obvious that he knew. Our touches, our kisses, and our caresses: all of these were far too easy to expect this to be new and foreign. I hadn't hidden my attraction to him very well, and now he knew that we had been madly head over heels for each other such a long time ago. Had I been able to feel my fingers and toes, I would have cringed away from the inevitable blow up that was about to occur. He was going to be furious I kept this from him.

However, instead of screaming, Troy looked mortified.

"Let me explain!" he hurried out before I could begin apologizing. "I think he was in love with you, but never had the balls to tell you. I don't know, maybe you were dating someone else or what… but yeah…"

In my panic, I felt my eyebrows fly to my brow line with curiosity. He seemed to be breathing heavily, as though he was desperate to make me understand. His insistency, however, calmed my nerves ever so slightly. He wasn't about to release his anger, so I was relieved that maybe my façade was actually better than I had expected it to be.

"How do you know that?" I breathed out, too afraid to speak too loud in case the motion was untrue and he was just going to hurt me again

Troy took a deep breath, yet never faltered his gaze from mine. It burned into the depths of my eyes, leaving a painless jolt racing throughout the crooks and crannies of my body as he slowly began, "I really don't know how to describe it. I can just… just _feel _it." He paused, collecting my hand into his and slowly running it down the surface of his chest, bumping over each defined muscled with such care and devotion that shivers flew down my spine, "It's like, when you touch me, I don't feel like I'm in this world anymore. I don't care if it's cheesy, I feel like there's something driving me towards you. Like a magnet. A force stronger than any hit I'd ever take and feels better than any time I've cum. I just… I sound like a fucking idiot right now. But -"

Our fingers laced again, though I'm not sure how mine managed to function. My entire body was trembling and, as much as I desperately tried to hold them back, tears were scorching against the backs of my eyes.

"I've only known you for two weeks, Gabi." Troy breathed deeply again to collect himself, "but I've never felt this way about _anyone _before. It's too strong. A part of me, an unconscious part, is in love with you. I know it."

He finally stopped and waiting for my verdict. A part of me – and I wasn't sure how dominant that part may have been – wanted to fling my arms around him and confess that I was his; to tell him that we had been in love that summer and nothing would ever tear us apart again. I wanted to tell him of the days we spent licking each other's ice cream cones or lying in each other's arms and watching a lame movie on TV that neither of us liked. He had just confessed that he felt something stronger than lust towards me; therefore it would seem logical that anything I would say about the past would only bring him happiness. We would finally be fully together again – no secrets or lies between us.

But I couldn't. Instead, I simply grabbed his face and shoved his lips against mine with as much passion and devotion I could muster.

The tears were freefalling against his thumbs as he cupped my face. This kiss wasn't quite like the others we had exchanged –the intensity and desperation hadn't been present until now.

I pulled away immediately, almost embarrassed by my forwardness. When I looked up, I could see that Troy's eyes were still shut; his face composed and his warm breath blew against the humidity that was increasingly escalading. There was a hint of serenity in his reaction – as though he had just been injected with the most addictive drug and he was anticipating the high to commence. I took the moment of his blindness to try to rid my tears, but they couldn't help to keep trickling with a steady tempo onto the black fabric of his shirt. For three years I had waited for this expression; three years that seemed to pass like decades, yet the last confession of our true feelings that summer felt like yesterday - a single tick in time.

Finally, Troy's eyes flashed open – blue and burning. They immediately shot to me, hot with lust and love and desire. For a moment, concern raged through them when he noticed my tears. But when he reached forward with worry scarring his face, I forced my lips to form a comforting smile and a weak giggle. My touch gravitated just above his heart, giving it a soft squeeze with my fingers to remind him of what was important.

I had little time to react when his hand knotted through my hair and slammed my lips against his once again. There was much more fury in his kisses this time, yet it was soft enough to be fueled by the heart, not his libido. With the hand that was not clawing at my scalp, he pulled my back up until both of my legs fell beside his torso in a straddle. Softly, he lowered himself until his head was pushed up against the slippery surface of the sleeping bag. Our mouths moved together in a beat that had no tempo. One moment, they were frantic and probing, dueling tongues for control of who could prove their love more. The next, however, they were slowed; massaging together as one unit in an unbreakable bond.

His hands were everywhere; whether they were gingerly kneading around my spine or they were curving around my ass to bring me closer, he seemed to be aching to touch every inch of me. Our bodies were grinding against the other, but in a languid motion that were both frenzied and easy – desirable but not wild. My hands, small but hurried, traced their way beneath his shirt. His skin felt hot and musky as I outlined the division of his worked abs: a natural reaction to arousal and the warm air that swirled around our bubble. With every inch I brought north, the v-neck followed, rising and rising until it could not pass the build his shoulders. I tugged several times to initiate the removal, but his hands instead kept groping at the flesh of my backside.

"Troy-" I whispered gently when he took a breath. Immediately, he abandoned my lips and showered nips and kisses down my jaw line, reaching the curve of my neck and finally attaching himself to one spot, suckling and biting in longing, "Troy."

"Mmm…" He answered with a moan and a pull behind my legs, rubbing where I desired him most against his torso.

With a giggle that was throaty, I threaded my fingers between the fibers of his hair and nuzzled temple to temple, "Little help here."

He chuckled, but that quickly turned into a groan when my fingers traced back down his chest. Ever so slightly while still remaining contact, he pulled back, yanked the shirt off and tossed it into the grass – forgotten. It didn't take long before mine piled upon his in a mass of fabric.

Time was suddenly lost between us. Seconds passed like hours, yet minutes ticked like nanoseconds. Before I realized it had happened, Troy and I were suddenly in our underwear. His hand was beneath the clasp of my bra, but not quite ready to remove the latch. Our mouths were still fused and his fingers were trailing up the grooves of my spine. By now, he had flipped me over and was grinding deeply against my parted legs. I was clawing desperately just above his ears, bringing his face as close as humanly possible. The only sounds that echoed in the night were our pants and moans and the rustles of the sleeping bags. There were no stars sparkling from above nor was there a moon to create a flawless spotlight on our bodies – instead, the black sky was far more perfect.

Pulling away breathlessly, Troy finally retrieved his tongue from my mouth. Our eyes were both glued shut, but I could feel this carbon dioxide spilling across my face. He kissed me again, groaning into my mouth but not quite driving into the lust.

Retracting again his lips, Troy didn't stop his intense - yet slow - gyrations against my groin.

"I want you…" He panted breathily. I knew his eyes were still closed, just like mine.

Before I could answer, my lower lip was between his once again. I moaned loudly when he pressed further upon the soaking crotch of my boyshorts.

"I had no idea." I teased, running one of my hands down his chest and then along the fabric that covered his length. He shuddered mercilessly at my touch and kissed me with a sense of fire and hunger once again.

He pulled back, making me finally creep my eyes open ever so slightly. His face was mere centimeters from mine; the lids that hid the brilliance of his orbs were smoothed. The lantern that illuminated from behind drew long shadows of his nose and cheeks over the opposite side of his face. I had memorized every inch of it: the folds of his eyelids and the skin that was kissed by the sun. But those dreams that had both haunted me and left me begging for more could not justify the beauty that was Troy Bolton. From the mole that was parallel to his small beginning of a side burn to the way his eyebrow arched at the perfect angle, nothing could ever replace who he was.

Correction: who he is.

"I didn't want… this to happen…" Troy confessed throatily. Against his words, his pelvis continued its beat – a storm ready to strike.

For a brief moment, I retracted with rejection. His words stung more than they had intended to. I suddenly felt small beneath the hover of his muscular body. Somewhere along the kisses and touches and foreplay, I must have missed the cue that he didn't desire me. However, before I could get too far away, Troy's grip on the back of my neck tightened, holding me in place. Simultaneously, his hand breezed down the length of my side until it laced with mine.

His eyes darted between mine, bringing our hands up so he could kiss my knuckles, though never removed his gaze from mine.

"I don't want to… when we head home…" His grunts were a result of his body responding to the way I rubbed up against his. I wanted to keep the erotic, yet loving, atmosphere alive, "I can't lose you after tonight."

The words caressed my heart, forcing tears to burn in my eyes once again.

I grabbed his face with fire in my soul and touch, slamming his lips against mine with as much devotion and adoration I could possibly muster. Not waiting for him to question, I furiously gripped the back of his hair.

He wanted me: physically and emotionally. I could feel it in his kiss, and the way he enveloped my body into his and rubbed against me. I wasn't just a saucy vacation hook up – I had a purpose and a heart, one that he wanted to continue to discover beyond cohesion.

"Y-You won't…" I gasped into his lips, "God, Troy… I'm yours."

Always.

That had been enough. Quickly, the bra clasp upon my back was unhooked and abandoned. My panties and his boxers followed. Somewhere between the time that my bare chest was flush against his, both of us reached for his discarded jeans. It wasn't quite a struggle for control, but merely a blinded search for his wallet while his face was suckling against my collarbone. He grabbed it first, but before I could realize my mistake, I reached for the pocket I knew so well behind his debit card and his license. That only earned me a quirk of his eyebrow of how I had gathered that knowledge, but I quickly distracted him by kissing soundlessly once again.

He was then between my legs, gazing down at me with purity in the midnight shade of his desire. Neither said a word, but I felt my heartbeat stagger with the single connection of his forehead against mine. We panted, we groaned, and we inhaled each other in deeply before he breathed a single word that said far more than he ever could.

"_Gabi_."

And then he slid inside of me.

Troy didn't remember me – this was the raw truth that had haunted me for the past three years that we had been parted from the other. He would never recall the way he twirled me around until I was dizzy or that we used to point up at the stars and pretend like the universe was as small as the space we occupied. The tragedy of the drunk driver smashing his car into the side of Troy's truck that fateful night and spilling his blood had stripped him from all thoughts that consumed him of me. His mind was a blank slate, only filled with the memories of after the bandages had been removed and his eyes opened after the coma. His mind had no idea who I was.

But his body remembered me.

It was as though time had not passed between us – Troy and I fit together far better than any other man I had been with since. His hands knew exactly where to stroke; his lips knew where to dance. Before I could request to place stimulation here or increase the tempo there, he would do it. His hips and fingers and mouth – they knew what I wanted before I did. Never was there an awkward passing: Troy remembered.

The kisses and touches and licks were indescribable – as were the more primitive actions of our pumps and thrusts. I couldn't focus on one spot, for he would quickly shift and place his attention on another. The most erotic of sights was the way his nose scrunched up and the sound of his grunts harmonizing with my mewls caused my toes to curl. I watched the way his eyes would squeeze tighter when he pushed further, deeper into the depths of my body. My pleasure was fueled by his and the simple sensation of knowing that he loved me. He may not have known it, but he loved me – I could feel it.

Nothing made sense, but the only conscious thought I could grasp on was the lone fact that neither was this the old Troy nor was it the new Troy. As his hips increased their pace, we gasped, clutching desperately to one another and becoming one. I didn't know where he ended inside of me, nor did I care. I was too busy gasping the name that didn't have a prefix to it. There was no separation between him. It was just, _him_. And I realized that I never wanted anything more – memory or not.

His breath ragged in my ear – dangerous and low. I knew what it meant, for I felt it too in the flameless fire that raced from within. Looping my arms beneath his shoulders, we were suddenly pressed cheek to cheek. Our lips probed until we found each other once again, never letting go – not even when the climax hit and we shuttered, together.

When he groaned and chanted my name, I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, "I love you" in a voice small enough that he wouldn't hear.

Not to the old Troy or to the new Troy.

But to simply _Troy_ – the only one I had ever really belonged to.


	12. Motor Cortex

"A clear conscience is a sign of a bad memory."

~Proverb~

* * *

Although I would never admit it out loud, the most awkward night of my life had been the night I lost my virginity to Troy Bolton.

Movies, television and books: the media glorifies popping the cherry into something it really isn't. A damsel is supposed to save herself for her prince charming – for one's body was portrayed as a temple that only a soul mate is supposed to plunder. However, sometimes, Hollywood creates another version of the magical night. Some make it their ultimate goal to stretch themselves on Prom night – the boy has the expectations to strip off the three hundred dollar dress his girlfriend purchased and would never wear again. Fate was supposed to be written in the stars, and no matter what version of a first timer; it was supposed to be beautiful.

But honestly, losing my virginity physically felt shitty.

My first time was anything but beautiful – it was the most awkward and mortifying experience I had ever been witnessed to. There were no little tea candles surrounding us nor was there sensual music billowing in the background. In fact, it wasn't even planned. Troy and I had been watching TV on the floor of his basement – which, might I add, had an expensive projection screen that looked more like a movie theater. We hadn't been watching, for his parents had decided they were going to go out to dinner that evening and stupidly left us home alone. Less than five minutes after the garage door had shut, I was suddenly writhing beneath him and his fingers had been deep inside me. The foreplay had continued until he had shoved my head away from his lips and told me how much he wanted me. After looking into his eyes and confessing I felt the same, he clumsily lifted me until we were inside his room, rolling around his bed and searching for a "just in case" condom.

Troy hadn't been fluid, nor had I expected him to be in his first time being inside a woman. In fact, there had been several times in the beginning that he had slipped out of me. But as the determined athlete he was, he pressed on and finally found a rhythm that was comfortable for him. For me, it burned. Not a pleasurable one that caused my eyes to roll back, but a pure ripping sensation that made tears well. Being as in love with me as he was, he kissed them away with panic and apologize spewing from his lips – between cusses of pleasure, of course. I promised him my wellbeing and urged him to press on, even if the blood wouldn't stop flowing. He didn't last long – an inexperienced sixteen year old boy couldn't hold himself. When it was finished, he kissed me and promised that next time, he'd bring me the euphoria that I had given him.

The awkward part came after we were completely dressed and panted for our breath. Neither of us, at first, knew how to act. I wanted to cuddle; he wanted to sleep. We could do neither, however, since his parents were to return fairly quickly. We silently stripped the mattress of his sheets and ran a load of wash to clean the blood and semen like a crime scene – Troy had his summer league the next day and claimed that he had spilled pudding on his jersey – and then returned back to the basement in silence. He had held me tightly to him, promising me that he never wanted to let go, and then rolled his head back and fell asleep. By the time my curfew rolled around, I nudged him to attempt to wake, but he was gone to the world. Guiltily, I attempted to wiggle out of his grasp but found his iron clasp impossible. After finally managing to slip away, I left a note and drove my beat up Honda home. The next day, he yelled at me for pulling "a one night stand" and left without saying goodbye. Of course, it was silly, since we had had sex two days later – that time, it had actually been enjoyable. The rest was history.

Beneath the moonless sky in the middle of the clearing that night, the very last emotion I was feeling was awkwardness.

Still, I was bound to Troy's body by the strength of his arms, just like the first night we had taken that leap into intimacy. His chest was rising and falling in the even breath of his sleep – just like then, he had fallen into a deep slumber whilst I remained awake and lost in myself in thoughts of him.

However, the differences made the feeling far more euphoric. Instead of remaining awkwardly on the couch and tucked into his side, he was curved around my body, pulling my abdomen towards his as he spooned my back. His bicep was beneath my face, providing a makeshift pillow and his cheek was pressed against my ear, blowing warm air across my face and tickling the tip of my nose. Our legs were entwined, as well as our hearts. Against mine, his skin was toasty, though I was thankful for the sleeping bag he draped over our bodies in protection. Everything about our position felt right, natural. The world didn't quite function correctly unless we were together.

My fingers played with his, my mind running a mile a minute. There was much to talk about when he finally regained consciousness, but at that moment, there was little I wanted to ponder. Closing my eyes, I attempted to release my mind and be lulled to sleep by Troy's soft snores.

It appeared, however, that the gods would only allow me happiness for so long. Before I completely fell into my dream world, a sudden crack whipped across the sky – hot, blazing, and deadly.

Immediately, my eyes flew open and I gasped with fright. All I could see was blackness; shadows consumed all but the little lantern that provided us with illumination. The earth beneath my body suddenly began to rumble – a rebellion against my nirvana. Once finished, the clearing was silent once again, a clear indication of all other life scurrying for shelter. By reflex, I snuggled backwards into Troy's grasp, praying that it would save me from the inevitable storm that had just commenced.

It was then that I realized we could either stay out there and risk being electrocuted by lightning or we could head back to the cabin and deal with the lack of privacy.

I grumbled grudgingly when I finally managed to wiggle in Troy's clutch so we were bare chest to bare chest.

"Troy?" I whispered, not wanting to break the intimacy that we had created hours before. He didn't stir, nor make any motion to suggest he would wake. It was then that I remembered how deep of a sleeper he was.

Fuck.

"Troy." I repeated louder than before and reached up to shake his shoulder. Again, he simply continued to slumber without even a twitch of his fingers.

I suddenly knew if I was going to wake up, I was going to have to play dirty. My shakes against his collarbone were suddenly much more frantic and forceful. Somewhere in the distance, another strike of lightning exploded in the night –a dazzle the black sky. The thunder followed like a stampede of elephants plundering through the woods. Storms didn't usually frighten me, but the thought of being out in the middle of nowhere with towering trees surrounding us didn't give me much comfort.

A new approach breeched my mind. Sighing, I slithered my palm up his bare chest and cupped his jaw, tenderly stroking the sturdy bone with care. Tenderly, I leaned forward and allowed my breath to whisper over his face when I purred, "_Troy_". With my strained leg slipping over the straight line of his hip and feeling his body flush against mine, I sought his lips with as much seduction and allure as I could possibly muster. I realized, however, how silly I looked trying to shove my tongue into his mouth when he was continuing to blow carbon dioxide into mine.

Groaning in frustration, I released my leg from his waist and pushed his chest away. No matter how hard I attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, his iron lock kept me in place. The wind was quickly gathering and rustling the leaves that dangled from the branches of the trees. Desperation began to bubble through my chest – we needed to get out of here.

Like a light bulb flashing through my mind, I suddenly created one final attempt that would surely complete the impossible job.

Turning my heel so it was raised just above his shin, I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the onslaught of his fury as I crashed them together with a ripple that vibrated all the way to my heart.

I let out a breath of relief at the sound of Troy's angry grunt.

However, he didn't stir. I did notice the way the even huffs of his chest ceased its pace. His eyes were no longer floating to a close, they were fluttering as though he was attempting to grasp onto wherever he had been previously. I knew he didn't want to escape his euphoria – and I wanted him to have it – but the bang of thunder once again reminded me that perfection eventually had to end.

For the second time, I kicked him mercilessly in the shin.

This time, he responded.

"If you kick me again," Troy growled in my ear, "I swear to fucking God… I'm going to kick your ass."

His actions juxtaposed his words – I gasped when I felt his arms tighten around my back and crush me to his chest. Rolling onto his back and bringing me with, suddenly my hip was against the muggy surface of the sleeping bag and my legs were wound around his thigh.

The moment his face scrunched tightly together so his nose flared and his eyes squeezed was when I completely forgot about the storm that was threatening to barbeque us. His hand left my waist to tense behind his head; his nude body arched in a stretch. I took that second to admire the way his hair was in complete disarray and there were red marks covering his neck. I smiled – I put them there.

Once the pressure of his blood screamed for release, Troy collapsed back into the ground and creaked his eyes open ever so slightly. There were bags and shadows bruising beneath them – a sign of fatigue. His face was serene, almost childlike with a daze of unconsciousness. Although he was looking at me, I was certain that he wasn't really seeing me. He was lost in a limbo of reality and fantasy of his dreams. I couldn't help but feel a rush of adoration at his haphazard appearance – an innocent mess of morning, even if it was still night.

Unexpectedly, and without opening his eyes, Troy's lips hunted for mine. I was taken off guard by the sudden laziness his mouth possessed as it moved against mine – a smolder instead of a wild flame. His hand was in my hair, but too tired to move. Tracing the outline of his muscles, my palm ghosted up his chest until it was cupping his study jaw, coaxing him towards me. I tried to slip my tongue into his mouth, but he refused – not in rejection, but in pure fatigue. He continued to nibble upon the bottom of my lip in a languorous motion, gentle in all the right places.

"Hi." He whispered softly against my lips; his eyes were still closed.

I couldn't help the smile that breeched my face, "Hi."

Troy pulled me closer, if that was even possible, and buried his face into my knot of hair. I encircled my arms around his abs and pressed my face to his bare skin, allowing my eyes to close and listen to the even beating of his heart. It was lulling – for a moment, I forgot where I was and who I was for that matter. The air, the sky, the world: everything that encompassed the earth gravitated around Troy. I never wanted to remove my grasp from him nor leave that clearing – the place that had exceeded my expectations by miles.

However, the minute of solitude was interrupted when I begun to hear the soft rumble of Troy's gentle snores again –mimicking thunder. The storm immediately returned to my memory and I lifted up to see that his face was once again composed. Feeling guilty, I reached up and cupped it once again.

"Troy… Troy we need to get up." I whispered, tracing his cheek with my thumb.

He shook his head innocently, "No we don't." He mumbled into my hair before pressing a kiss to it and hiked me further on his waist.

"Troy… there's a storm coming, I saw lightning." I tugged on his shoulder, though he was an immovable bolder.

"We'll survive." He groaned, most likely not comprehending what I was saying.

"Troy, _please-_"

At the exact moment of my beg, the sky rattled the earth in a thunderous wake.

Immediately, Troy's eyes flew open and he sprung up to a start – not without clutching me to snap with him as well.

"What the _fuck _was that?" He announced, fear in his voice and his eyes wide with anxiousness. His head whipped around frantically, searching the clouds for the cause and finding nothing but blackness.

I rolled my eyes, "Well hello sleepyhead."

He ignored me, "Shit… that was thunder. We're going to have to get out of here." Suddenly, he was on a mission, hurrying to reach over and throw the empty Tupperware containers into the bag I had been assigned to bring. Never once removing his arm from my waist nor did he make a motion to maneuver his body away from me, his actions were suddenly with a purpose. I both annoyed and amused that he was attempting to complete the task I had urged him to do a few seconds before.

"Troy," my hand slid down his chest again, causing his motions to immediately halt. He snapped towards me, his eyes suddenly burning with adoration once again. It seemed he suddenly remembered who I was and why we were there, "don't give yourself a heart attack. It's still miles away." I promised, leaning my head into his chest and kissing just above his nipple.

He sighed and held me again, kissing down my cheek and just below my earlobe, "I'm sorry," he said with a caress in his voice, "I don't want to leave. This is… it's perfect."

"I know," I smiled weakly, combing my fingers through his hair, "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can go back to sleep."

He brought his head around so he was looking at me again, cupping my face into his palms, "You'll stay here?" He requested, referencing his arms, with a cheeky grin that was more than cheesy, but still made my heart skip a beat.

"Always." I whispered before his lips came crashing down onto mine, the way they were meant to.

* * *

I felt relief spread through my veins when the quick motions of my glowing flashlight provided enough light to tell that the tree line was fading into the familiar stone driveway.

"Thank God." I breathed out, with my eyes peering upwards through the thick branches and leaves that provided as a canopy to keep from the rain from soaking us to the core. A crackle of lightning illuminated the starless night with fury, causing me to cringe, even if the storm had already past it's worst.

There was a squeeze of my fingers, causing me to reflexively turn into the bright blue zip up that was covering the shoulders of perfection itself. It was difficult to see his face, due to the darkness that consumed us. Every once in awhile, however, I was able to catch a flicker of the grin on his face that was irreplaceable or the glitter of his ceruleans dancing with both happiness and disbelief. The sleeping bags were slung over his shoulder; I carried the bags that contained our already eaten food. Our pace up the path had been quick, yet we were reluctant to return to reality. Despite my first negative impression of the clearing, it suddenly became my own personal heaven – better than any extravagant getaway or paradise.

"Watch your step…" Troy warned in a soft mumble after shining the flashlight over the ground, revealing the root of a tree that loomed in the shadows. I was thankful he was erect – verses his half consciousness when I had first woke him up – for it would have been impossible for me to see through the nothingness that threatened to swallow us whole after we had quickly dressed and packed up our little haven.

Suddenly, the emptiness wasn't quite as empty as it was a few steps ago. At first, I believed that I was just getting so used to the night that I was starting to develop a bat sense; silhouettes of the dark moss and rustling leaves glowed in an eerie outline. Squinting, I lifted my head from Troy's shoulders to see a soft glow part through the trunks of the trees. Catching a glance at him, I trailed my fingers over Troy's wrist, feeling the bones of his joints beneath my fingertips. Unlike me, who looked completely perplexed by this foreign glow in the distance, he suddenly looked annoyed.

"It's fucking one in the morning… why the hell are they still up?" He grumbled as our feet crunched in synchrony on the tiny stones beneath our feet.

I was a stride behind him, allowing his grip to lead me across the open space with a sense of urgency. At first, I didn't know where this sudden quickness derived from. However, once the leaves were unable to protect me any longer, I felt the pelt of nature's furry upon my curls. Without much more incentive, Troy and I both began to sprint across the driveway until we reached the stairs – which, I happened to slip on during the ascend.

"It's not funny!" I whined and slapped his chest when we finally reached the top and were under the safe zone of the porch.

Dropping the sleeping bags, Troy placed his hands up – a sign of his innocence. However, his chuckles were far from, not to mention the way he placed his hands on my waist and drew me close – groin to groin.

"Did you get wet?" He asked with pure bemusement.

I couldn't help the seductive smirk that curled over my lips. Suggestively, my arms wrapped around the back of his neck and plunged them into his hair, "Which point of the evening?"

"Mmmm…" Troy moaned, obviously sharing the same flashbacks that I was having back in the clearing.

Our lips found each others at the same time that the world above us ignited with rage. Against the back of my eyelids, which were closed due to the shivers that Troy was inducing down my spine, I saw a burning ball of blue light. Sparks turned to bolts – our attraction exploded between the primitive fuse between us.

When we finally pulled away, breathless, Troy's mouth couldn't seem to still. It was everywhere – from my forehead to my temple and all the way down to my collarbone. Although I was perfectly content with him ravishing me once again on that wooden porch, I really didn't want to get struck by lightning. Therefore, my fingers tenderly combed through the little hairs that covered the back of his neck and coaxed him to look at me once again. I could see the desire had once again returned – his orbs were shining midnight.

"Troy," I pressed a finger to his lips when he attempted to dive in once again, "we need to get inside before we're soaked."

The rain thudded just as loud as the thunder boomed. He frowned, knowing I was right and unable to deny that the wind was howling wildly through the trees.

"Will you kick the assholes out so I can _at least _be able to sleep with you?" He pleaded. I knew he truly meant slumber – the deep circles beneath his eyes were a clear indication of this. The immature part of me, however, giggled with bemusement at the connotation of the word "sleep".

On cue, I heard the low murmur of voices floating through the open screen door; it was most likely unlocked due to our absence.

"Taylor's still our roommate." I reminded him.

He shrugged and nuzzled our noses together, "We'll start kicking her out."

With one last capture of my lips, Troy wrapped his palm around the back of my head and absorbed one final moment of privacy. It left me completely breathless, and slightly dizzy, until he completely released me from his body. After gathering the bags below, he quickly took my hand again and led the way towards the rattling door and hurried me inside.

Although I would have picked Troy's arms even in the soaking rain over this, I couldn't deny that it was refreshing to be in the warm atmosphere of the cabin – it was dry. There seemed to be a halo around where we entered, for the room was not well lit but enough to provide an orange burn of light to lowly illuminate the first story. It harbored in the living area – where Troy and I were destined to sleep. However, when I turned to look, I could see the outline of Chad's gigantic afro bouncing over the back of the couch every time he moved.

A part of me wanted to sprint back out and down the path to return to where Troy and I had just escaped to. Call me selfish, but I was suddenly repulsed by the idea of sharing him. He was mine, as he proved to me in the most intimate of ways hours before, and I didn't want anyone else hogging his time.

But when the crash of lightning rattled the house, I realized that we didn't have any other options.

Troy seemed to be thinking in the same parallels as I. He kissed my forehead and then tossed the sleeping bags – that would certainly need washing before they went home with us – into the kitchen. I followed his lead, dropping the bags beside the table and immediately turned around again to lace my hand with his. I was reminded of the way we used to be, in a far distant haze of my memory. The way we moved like one, gravitating around each other with each push and pull of our bodies.

"Well, look who decided to weather the storm."

At the sound of Chad's voice, I felt a rush of a blush flood to my cheeks. Like a kid caught with paint smeared on the walls, I stepped towards Troy and held his arm with the hand not occupying his. I wasn't embarrassed, but the way all of them decided to watch us with hawk eyes as we entered the space further made me feel like I had splatters of his cum on my face.

Troy, on the other hand, simply rolled his eyes with pure annoyance, "What the hell are you guys still doing up?"

I took that opportunity to survey the scene. Jason and Sharpay were lying on the floor, bottles in their clutches but looking as though they weren't quite drunk – or at least not anymore. Taylor was occupying the couch that I had harbored with a book in her hand; Chad's legs were stretched across the cushions of Troy's. Zeke had a pair of wire-rimmed glasses on his face, ones that aided in his sight as his dark eyes flew across the pages of a Sports Illustrated – most likely Troy's.

"Making sure you didn't get barbequed." Jason responded lowly, swirling the last of the alcohol that we had brought for the two weeks and watched it with interest, "Congratulations, you're still alive."

I watched Taylor roll her eyes, apparently annoyed with everyone else. She cocked a black eyebrow, watching Troy's and my fingers play with each other as we continued to stand.

"Where have you guys been?"

Dumbstruck, I looked up at Troy to see if he had an answer. I didn't really care if they knew we had slept together – they already knew we had hooked up countless times the summer before junior year. However, I didn't exactly feel comfortable announcing my sex life to the world.

Troy shrugged indifferently, "I needed a break from you assholes." He teased, fluffing Chad's afro. The boy on the couch immediately sprung into a fighter mode and slapped his hands away.

"Dude, if you fucking touch my hair again…"

"You'll spring the ninjas from your follicles?" I teased, sticking my tongue out with giddy.

Snickering, Chad lowered his eyes with pure amusement on his lips, "Maybe they can wash the post-fucking blush off of your cheeks."

This, of course, only made me blush even more.

Beaming with pride, Troy circled his arm around my waist and pulled me close to his chest, "I have no idea what you're talking about." He grinned and dropped a kiss into my hair.

I realized, at that moment, how purely _happy _I was – such a contrast to when I first had arrived at the cabin. My first goal when discovering Troy was going to be on vacation with me was to avoid him at all costs – I didn't want my heart to shrivel up anymore than it had that summer that we were together. But now, he hadn't just mended it – he ignited a new beat in my chest. He was the same person, there was no doubting that, but he was matured and seductive. I wasn't in love with two separate people; I was in love with the single composition that made Troy who he was – the man I never wanted to live without again. Not even the storm raging outside could tear me to the ground.

That was, until the single bolt of lightning exploded and caught spark to the dead grass when Sharpay Evans opened her big mouth.

"Ugh…this is just great! Now my news feed on Facebook is going to be covered with you two fucking each other _again_. I already had to live through the porn once."

The room suddenly froze.

Although the storm was already beyond the house, the flashes of burning light filtered through the windows. They licked across the sudden stiffness of Troy's body. The world rushed by me, a speeding train derailing from the track. Yet, it also skidded to a stop – a new car hydroplaning on black ice.

The air in the room suddenly became gas, poisoned by lies and secrets that suddenly choked around each and every occupant until they suffocated. No one moved – no one dared to coax the reaction any faster than it was destined to come. I, however, didn't give a shit about the rest of the gang. They faded fast, turned to transparent masses in the universe. No one else mattered except the one who didn't loosen his grasp on my body, but became completely stilled – numbed by shock.

It was like a bad accident – I wanted nothing more than to stare at the ground, or anywhere else but at the sharpening of his eyes. But I couldn't help it; it was like staring into a beautiful disaster as he pierced down into mine. I had no control over my body; I slowly began to recoil in his arms in the case that he slapped me, hard.

"What is she talking about?" Troy asked me, his eyes shifting each of my irises – a search for truth.

I couldn't speak, let alone breathe. The world was spinning in a chaotic funnel cloud, twisting me backwards and front and upside down. I tried to force my lips to form words, however, my vocal cords were snapped in two – a punishment of the lies I told and truth I withheld.

He gripped me tighter, desperation in his grasp. Opening my mouth and fighting muteness, I couldn't bring myself to voice the words that would inevitably shatter everything.

I didn't have to – Sharpay was already a step ahead of me.

"Oh come on, Bolton. Cut the shit. We all know Montez wouldn't let you stick it in her after less than two weeks of 'knowing' each other or whatever. Even I'm not that slutty." She commented, and I imagined her twirling a hair around her finger, completely innocent and naïve to the damage she had just done. I honestly believed she was stupid enough not to notice the pure horror that raced across his face, "Just have a fucking reunion and be done with it."

I almost wished he was angry, for the pain that traced through his eyes was far worse than any rage could have been.

"Okay… Evans maybe lay off the tequila…" Chad pathetically attempted to save, but the words had already sunk in. I could feel it in my eyes – the way they burned with pure regret.

"Gabriella?" Troy whispered frantically, dropping his hands as though my skin was covered with boils. I could tell he was pleading, begging for me to roll my eyes and tell her to shut up. I wanted to – oh God I wanted to make this go away and never come back again.

But I couldn't move. The ground had frozen me to my spot – an immovable hunk of nothingness.

He swallowed thickly, ran a hand through his bangs, and stumbled backwards. For a moment, I thought he was going to go into shock. His face paled – a ghost in the dark glow of the lamp.

I don't know how, but the reaction suddenly awoke all bodily functions within me.

I staggered forward, holding out my hand as a peace offering.

"Troy-"

His eyes snapped up, icy and firing with rage.

"Don't. Touch. Me." He seethed, his face coiling in pure hatred.

With that, he spun around and sprinted towards the door.

I suddenly realized, through my tears, that it was one of those important moments in life – the fork in the road. If I continued to stand there, glued to the ground and staring at the ghost of his body, I would be taking the safe route: the path I had chosen when I refused to go visit him up in Santa Fe. Troy would run on fumes until he calmed down and then turn around and return back to the cabin. The rest of the trip would consist of awkward glances and glowers in my direction. We wouldn't be back at square one – we'd be in negative space. It was safe, but it also led to another broken heart.

Making a decision, I raced after him.

"_Troy!_" I screeched through the dulling thunder after the screen door clattered against the wall when I ripped it violently open. Rain continued to pound on the cabin, showering the world, cleansing it of deceit and lies. My curls frantically whipped around, searching desperately through the thick curtain of water. It didn't take long before I saw the shimmering shadow fading towards the path we had just surfaced from.

The mud and rain splashed against my feet when I bolted down the steps – dirty and icy. Never before had I run so quickly – not during the state soccer game nor when I had discovered the tragic accident. The rain was racing down my face, masking my tears.

"Troy!" I screamed again when I could finally make out the bright color of his sweatshirt. We were suddenly covered by the leaves once again, only allowing trickles of water to drop from each branch. Without caring or concern, I gripped his arm to halt his advances, "Troy, let me explain-"

"_Explain what_?" He roared, whipping his body around so he was shooting daggers at me with the white gloss of his eyes – stained pink, "the fact that you fucking _lied _to me? That you of _all _people kept this from me?"

I suddenly realized I didn't know what to say. I had royally screwed up the situation, and now I was dealing with the consequences.

However, I never backed down from an argument with Troy Bolton.

"What did you want me to say, Troy?" I called back, my voice not cynical but just as hard as his. Feeling the passion brew through my skin, I tried to take a step forward to decrease the distance, but he immediately jump back like I had the plague, "That I'm your ex? That you and I spent the entire summer together? That… that you were coming… home from my house the night you got hit?"

My voice wobbled with guilt at the last statement, but I swallowed it before it could be revealed anymore. Tightly pulling my arms to my chest and crossing them, I felt the world spin around me and fade.

"You _knew _how I feel about people hiding this shit." Troy hissed, "You of all people."

"I was in love with you, Troy." I sobbed, "I _am _in love with you. I – I couldn't just tell you that. Not when you didn't know who I was."

Suddenly, his eyes flashed pure and raw. It wasn't quite hatred and it wasn't quite fury. It was something different – something terribly worse than either emotion and caused my stomach to turn in disgust. The lines in his forehead, the tears in his eyes: they were the symptoms of a tragic medical condition that I had experienced three years previously.

Heartbreak.

"So what?" His voice came in a piercing whisper, pointed with pain, and far more deadly than his yell would ever be, "You thought if you'd fuck me, then suddenly your precious boyfriend would come back to you? Is that it? I'd cum and suddenly _your _Troy would appear? That I was just second best because you couldn't have _him_?"

I swallowed, the guilt exploding through my heart, "Troy… Troy please, it's not like that… Troy it's you… it's only you…"

"Then tell me you never wished for him to come back." He ordered darkly, the tears now running rapidly down his cheeks.

There was suddenly nothing more that I wanted than to promise him that were the case.

But instead, I bowed my head in shame.

"Fuck you, Gabriella." He hissed before whirling around and sprinted down the slippery slope, leaving me helpless in the rain, out of sight.

* * *

"This is all your fault, you know." Taylor said to Sharpay with bags deep under her eyes and her mouth twitching with hatred.

The blonde, who was sitting on the couch, bored, tapped obnoxiously against her cell phone. Her eyebrows flew to the very tip of her light hairline, "What the fuck did _I_ do?"

My eyes closed and my forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. Due to lack of sleep, post orgasm, and a dump of a stress hormone; I felt as though my head was going to burst into flames. Between my eyes was a throbbing pain that threatened to explode; Sharpay's high pitched voice did nothing to ease the tension. Honestly, the part of me that wasn't trembling wanted to curl up into a ball and try to sleep away this nightmare. Maybe, my eyes would suddenly creak open and I would be back in the clearing, tight in Troy's grasp. Reality was suddenly a hazy fizz in time after Chad, Zeke, and Jason had all become worried and sent out their own search party for Troy – who hadn't showed up after an hour in the rain. At three o'clock in the morning, everything started to become a blur.

"_You _knew that Troy still didn't remember anything. You purposefully sabotaged them!" Taylor accused. Behind my eyelids, I imagined her chocolate finger jutting in the diva's direction like a witness recognizing a criminal.

"First of all, get your fucking finger out of my face." Sharpay demanded. Had I not been aching of a broken heart – again – I would have smiled that I knew my best friend oh so well, "And second, I had no idea Mr. Memory didn't know they were screwing before. I don't exactly keep tabs on them. Besides, it wasn't like I was the one keeping the secret from him."

"They had only known each other for less than two weeks! She couldn't_ possibly_ tell him-"

"She let him bang her, didn't she?"

Taylor opened her mouth to rebut, but I finally turned away from the window with hallow eyes to look at them.

"She's right." I croaked. My voice was barren – a tundra of nothingness.

Both raised their brows with pure curiosity and fright.

"She is?" Taylor gasped, as though the statement was a cuss.

"Psh… of course I am." She paused, "Why again?"

I turned back to the window, listening to the low boom of thunder that was now miles away. My fingers pressed against it, leaving their prints, as I gazed out into the even trickles of water swimming down the surface. I was searching desperately for the shadow to loom in the distance, though I dreaded it. Whatever happiness that Troy had given me that day was suddenly sucked away; I had ruined any chance of possibly of him ever talking to me again after this trip, let alone me belonging to him. The tears blinded me, though I refused to let the cries release.

"Because," I explained in the same monotone that held zero emotion, "I fucked up."

Suddenly, someone's hand was on my shoulder in comfort. Since I seriously doubted Sharpay would bother to touch me with a ten foot pole, that only left Taylor as my comforter.

"Honey, we understand. You didn't just want to flat out tell him-"

Frantically, my long curls – knotted due to Troy's hungry ravishing and then running out in the pouring rain after him – swayed from side to side as I shook my head.

"It's not that." My whisper finally leaked the pain that was stabbing mercilessly at my heart. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to shove the image of Troy's horrified face out of my head. Every time I did, I was only greeted with the bruised complexion after his accident. Neither were pictures I could handle, "If I hadn't been such a coward… if I would have been there when he needed me instead of running away like a scared little girl," the tears were now streaming silently down my face as I blinked up at her, "I loved him… and I just left him, Tay… I didn't even give him a chance…"

Taylor reached to let me fall into her arms with comfort. I couldn't do it though, so I recoiled and hugged my abdomen to keep from splitting in two. No one else would be able to make me whole again; not unless the man I loved came bursting through the door and took me in his embrace with forgiveness – a fantasy that would never happen.

"Gabs… you were hurt." Taylor tried to soothe. It did nothing but made me look outside into the blackness again.

And be greeted by three glowing lights crossing each other.

My heart stopped beating. I couldn't decipher the individual faces of each shadow, but it didn't matter. Their approach was not quick; in fact, it made the negative anticipation drag on slower. With wide eyes and panic spreading through my blood like poison, I heard the hurried mumbles from the group struggling up the steps. When the door finally creaked open, I turned away, unworthy to see if he had joined them.

"…careful… come on buddy, we're home." Chad's voice echoed through my ears. I couldn't bring myself to greet them or recognize what he was saying. I could only flatten myself against the corner and feel acid burn down my cheeks, praying that I would disappear or that he wouldn't see me – yet I wanted him to.

"Chad?" Had I been focused, I would have been surprised at the urgency of Taylor's voice or the way she actually spoke to him directly for the first time since The Incident, "What happened?"

"It's okay…just go get blankets and pillows and throw them on his couch…" Chad directly softly, yet hurriedly, "We need to strip him… his skin is ice…Where's Gabs?"

At the sound of my nickname, I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter.

There was suddenly a hand was tugging on my bicep, "Gabriella… Gabs come here… we need your help…" It was Chad, naturally. I refused to succumb to his and mine desires and attempted to rip myself away. He wouldn't let me go and slowly spoke, "Troy needs you."

At the sound of my lover's name, I finally opened my eyes and was attacked with a new nightmare to haunt me forever.

In the doorway, each arm was slung around Jason and Zeke's shoulders – a crutch for support. His feet were stable, both able to plant firmly on the ground, but his entire body was trembling. Apart from the other three, his sweatshirt and khakis were completely soaked; the sound of my heart punching against my chest thudded in time with the sharp drops of water that pelted onto the floor from his clothes. His hair –usually chestnut and perfect – was black and matted against his head. He was trembling; his lips bruised purple and his skin white as death. Teeth chattering wildly, he coughed several times and closed his intensified eyes that were unseeing as they stared blankly ahead.

However, none of this mattered when déjà vu slammed against through my heart. He slowly turned his head towards me – enough to see the crimson trickle of blood that oozed down his temple, synchronized with my tears.

* * *

**A/N: It's kind of disgusting how nervous I am for your response of this chapter. Let me know your _honest _opinion, and thanks for reading, as always. One more chapter left.**


	13. Occipital Lobe

"The heart that truly loves never forgets."

~Proverb~

* * *

Troy was freezing and trembling.

And he was bleeding.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

I didn't waste any time. Chad's grip was suddenly gone from my arm. The lights dimmed in my head and the only person in the room that existed was Troy and his shivers. I sprinted, faster than I ever had, over to stand before where he was being propped. Immediately, my hands went to work on tugging the metal zipper – frozen to my touch – down his torso and peeled the sloppy sweatshirt off his shoulders. It dropped to the floor with a squish, seeping water quickly and drenching my feet with ice.

"What the hell are you guys waiting for? Get him dry blanket, dammit!" I ordered, slightly hysterical as my fingers went to the bottom of the shirt; it was the second time I was tugging it upwards with frustration that night.

My heart and my brain were suddenly one for the first time in the two weeks that Troy and I had reunited. The tactics of my mind were attempting to recover the notebooks filled with doodled on notes and scribbles of my handwriting – medical lectures of hypothermia. The beats in my chest were pumping blood and adrenaline wildly through my body; fueled with passion and hot with desperation, it was forcing me to work at a rapid speed. I didn't quite know what I was doing until it was done; which was excruciatingly painful due to the fact that my mission was slowed by his shakes. I knew he couldn't control his body's natural reaction to warm itself, but given that his wet clothes would only chill him more, I needed to get him into dry wear as fast as possible.

"Gabs… here…" Someone huffed – I cared not who it was – and dropped a heap of red and white blankets at my feet.

Although I wasn't a doctor yet, my first year of college wasn't a waste. I didn't need a degree to tell me that he was far more soaked that he should have been if he was just simply under the tree cover of the path.

"What happened?" My voice was monotone when I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled at the zipper, shoving them to his ankles without desire or lust – simply panic.

"We found him on the path we were on the first day." Another voice explained, "he was right by the water. It was fucking muddy out there. He said he slipped and fell in."

I gulped – he must have hit his head on the way down.

My hands ran down his biceps once the shirt splattered to join the sweatshirt on the floor, creating friction. No matter where I touched, however, I refused to look up into his eyes. Already, I was so frantic because I had to distract myself from the inevitable blank stare that was sure to come. My brain, the part that didn't go into combat mode, was flashing back to the horror that was his awakening after the coma. I could still smell the dying scent of hospital and I could still remember the way Lucille Bolton, his mother, had held onto my shoulders tightly as she ushered me into his room. Even now, as threw my tie blanket around him, his skin felt cold and his would be eyes far worse when he then looked at me with nothing behind his stare.

Already, I could feel my heart crackle in foreboding.

"Bring him to the couch." I ordered, letting go of what mattered most and hurried to the foot of the furniture. Sliding as though the floor were home plate and most likely giving myself rug burn, I ripped his bag open and began to fish through the different articles of clothing he had packed. I could hear the rustle of movement and the springs of the couch, but sights and sounds were a complicated web. Obviously, he was going to be fine, but my mind was far to panicked to be able to grasp on that concept.

After settling on a shirt, sweat pants and a new pair of boxers, I threw myself to the couch and knelt in front of him, still keeping my distance from making eye contact.

"Gabriella… take a deep breath and calm down…" A voice instructed me. I ignored it.

"Do we have a first aid kit? Someone bring me gauze!" I shouted. I didn't even register the slowed footsteps when I turned back to the cushions and looked back at the shivers that rippled against the blanket. Like a coward, I refused to look up at meet his stare; I couldn't handle the thought of him not remem…

What the fuck was I doing?

Three years ago, I had taken the chance of my heart by allowing Troy to pull me in for that very first kiss and step over the dangerous lines of friendship into something more. We spent that summer in heaven and bliss – holding hands like normal couples but also playing a game of one on one as the best friends we were. It was a different kind of love; not one that began on the heat of one's skin and traveled into the heart with time. This love, unique and powerful, ignited within the core of my stomach – bursting once the match was lit. Ultimately, the higher one climbs only means the harder one falls. Therefore, my fright and abandonment after Troy's lapse of memory shattered my entire being – it weakened me.

For two weeks, I had taken the opportunity to re-fall in love with the man who owned my entire world. In that time, I realized that Troy was not the same guy he was that summer, but yet, he was. He was still the passionate lover who looked at me as though I was the only one who existed: the only one who mattered. His voice was tainted with a sarcastic edge, but it made him unique and powerful. However, he was matured – physically and emotionally. He knew what he wanted in life and he was going to get it no matter the cost. He had turned from the boy I fell in love with that summer, to the man I had fallen in love with this summer. And I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Yet, I was in a state of déjà vu. I was currently falling into the same trap that I had when I left him.

He was Troy. No matter if he lost his memory once or twice or seven times – he was still Troy.

And that was all that mattered.

Something dropped beside me, stripping me from my thoughts and reminding me that there was a task at hand. I looked up, unseeingly, and nodding in thanks at who ever had retrieved the necessary equipment for me to continue with my task. Now or never was bestowed after I picked up the medical tape and gauze pad and weighed them in my hands. I realized I couldn't be a coward any longer; no longer would I push him away until he was out of reach. As I curled one of my fingers around his vibrating shoulder above the blanket that covered him, I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut, mentally counting to three.

One… Two…

"G-Gabi."

My eyes flashed open at the stutter of my name – initiating a stutter in my heart.

He was looking up at me the way he had that summer we first fell in love – his eyes dark with desire. But he was also gazing upon me in the same passionate and devotion he had since I first climbed down the stairs the first night in the cabin. It reflected love within the turquoise flecks in his irises; I could see myself shining in them. Both were a combination of both Troys – the boy and man that combined into the person I was desperately head over heels for.

His hand, shaking in the cold, slid into mine.

He still remembered me.

The tears of relief finally breeched, "Troy…" I whispered frantically and leaned forward and shoved my lips against his icy forehead, water streaming down my face. The blood in my veins ran quickly with each kiss I slammed against his skin. Pure and untamed love exploded beneath my fingers, raking through his soaked hair with a sense of urgency and need. When it was too difficult for me to form my mouth any longer, my forehead pressed against his as my body began to tremble as violently as his did – his due to the cold, mine due to my happy sobs.

"I'm s-s-o… f-f-uck-ing… co-cold." His teeth were chattering wildly.

"You're so stupid." I cried, cradling his head within my arms and never allowing him to escape again, "So so stupid…"

He suddenly winced when I pressed too tightly above his ear. Pulling away, my fingers were suddenly stained crimson. Panic rushed through me again, remembering the cause of my hesitations previously. I scooped up the bandages once again and sat on the edge of the couch. My world was consumed with him, for I hadn't noticed that the others had slipped into the shadows and were watching us with both concern and bewilderment. Instead, I watched painfully as Troy turned his head and continued to shake; though it seemed to be slowing under the masses of blankets that now buried him. I noticed that someone – most likely Taylor – left an amber bottle the height of my finger but not quite as thin.

I poured the iodine onto a tissue and turned back to him. Swallowing thickly, my hand cupped the opposite cheek and brought him to look at me again. Slowly, my thumb caressed his paleness and I gave him a soft smile.

"This is going to hurt."

He tried to force out a pathetic curl of encouragement, that he was fully prepared, "B-b-bring… it."

Of course, that courage disappeared the moment I touched his temple – straight into his wound.

"_Fuck!_" He screamed, throwing his head back in pure agony. I watched as his teeth, beneath their clatter, gritted and his eyes snapped tightly shut. Grabbing my knee, his fingers squeezed to displace the pain somewhere else.

Due to the relief had washed over me, I felt light and airy. Therefore, I rolled my eyes, "I told you."

He tried to chuckle, but it only sounded like huffs of breath, "L-l-look who has the s-s-superhero complex-x n-now."

With the back of my hand, I wiped the now silent tears and leaned forward again, stroking the opposite sideburn with the backs of my fingers. He closed his eyes at the closeness of my face again.

"I need to clean this." I told him, slithering my hand down his chest and trying to help his body to stop shaking. It wasn't in a response to my touch, rather the blankets against his bare skin, but his vibrations slowed in the slightest. He was still freezing – the clammy surface of his scalp was a symptom of this. I was waiting for a clear sign of heat to prick beneath him: a blush on his white skin. His legs, mounds beneath the blankets, were scissoring – an attempt at friction to create warmth.

"Grin and b-bear it." He leaned backwards, making his neck arch around the arm of the couch and fisted his knuckles. I bit my lip when I touched the chemical to it once again. This time anticipating it, he simply squeezed his eyes tightly shut and ground his teeth, though he was silent.

I sighed, though never ceasing to dab his wound, "What were you thinking, Troy?"

"I was p-pissed." He said coldly.

Our eyes caught again and I froze. Guilt immediately surged through me, electrocuting every nerve ending until it became unbearable. I had completely forgotten our argument and the revelation of our past when I thought Troy had lost his memory once again. It hadn't mattered – all I was focused on was the urgency to make sure he wouldn't suffer from any more head trauma. Now, knowing that Troy wouldn't suffer permanent damage and should have probably had a few stitches, the rawness of my betrayal stung far worse than the iodine ever would.

I waited for him to scream at me – to shout and yell and shove me away in pure hatred. Instead, silence fell before us when he closed his eyes: an indication for me to simply continue.

He sucked in a hot breath, making me pause momentarily and look down to find that he was fighting with his natural reactions to pull away from me. At my hesitation, his fingers curled around my wrist in encouragement to continue with my aid. His grip tightened in an attempt to steady himself as he held me. I focused back on the gouge and tried not to think of the pain he must have endured when his head slammed against the boulder as he took his tumble – the black ooze of blood was enough to send shivers down my own spine and pulse with sympathy.

Troy hissed as I finally retreated when the area was matted with iodine. Within the darkened strands of his hair, a midnight pool of blood still trickled over his ear and down his lobe, dropping onto the couch and most likely causing a stain.

I realized his shivers weren't quite as violent any longer, but when I reached up to frame the gauze pad on his temple, his body was still frozen. My fingers were working with precision and tactic – rip, snip, and press. Before long, I had created a makeshift bandage in his hair that would absorb the blood for the next hour before I would need to dress it again. He stared up at me when I was finished and dropped my materials to the couch, slightly wary to turn back to him. Fingers tracing over the white patch, Troy chuckled bitterly to himself.

"I thought… m- maybe if I ever hit it again… I'd remember…"

He suddenly appeared exhausted, like his trembles had sucked the life out of him. I imagined I wasn't quite so far off, for he snuggled further into his blanket to hide all signs of the bare chest that was sticky with the mixture of rain and lake water.

Hesitantly at first, my palm curled around his cheek – cupping his face with pure devotion. Our eyes - despite his droopiness – locked once again. The earth wasn't quite as powerful or plundering as the way we burned. His hand caught my wrist again weakly, juxtaposition to the intensity of our gaze.

"I'm so…so… so sorry. I should have told you… but after you shook off Sharpay…I was just… I was scared…" My voice shook as I sniffed in my tears, trying not to begin sobbing once again. Obviously, I was failing – acid was raining down my cheeks and dropping onto the blanket, "You would have…I didn't want you to break my heart again…"

Troy nodded, his eyes were half closed and his breath coming thickly. I watched the way his chest rose and fell, not rapidly, but deeply. His ceruleans were dark with desire and intensity; the ocean at twilight, twinkling a reflection of the first star after a storm.

"He's never going to come back, Gabriella." His voice was black as night, deep with confession and fatigue, "If you're waiting for your Troy, walk away right now. I wish I could bring him back to you… I wish I could make you happy… but I can't. I never will be able to give that to you."

Lip quivering, I shook my head, "It… it doesn't matter."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, "It doesn't?"

Through my tears, I forced a smile. Without regret, hesitation, or fear, I leaned my forehead against his and cupped his face, the face of an angel, in my hands.

"No… because you _are_ my Troy." I whispered, "Memory or not… you're Troy. You always have been."

I could have wasted the rest of my life wishing for Troy's memory to return. It would have been easy to wallow in grief of lost kisses and caught glances of our childhood. I could have fought desperately to remind him of the days we sucked on creamcicles until our mouths turned raw or tossing paper footballs to each other in the back of homeroom freshman year. Someday, whether it had been a year or seventy years, I could force Troy to wake up and tell me he remembered the way that black dress fit around my stomach or how awkward our first time had been. I could take him to the best clinic in the world to extract his inner most thoughts and be able to point to a picture and recall what happened behind the scenes of the smiles and giggles.

But, as our lips found each other in a chaste kiss, I realized I didn't care.

* * *

My swimsuit was dried, my sports bras stunk, and my duffle bag was shoved in the far corner of the truck. The bottles had been recycled, the sheets stripped and prepared to be washed. There was no coffee waiting to be brewed, nor was there a fire to be tended to. For the first time in two weeks, the cabin was bare.

Despite the sadness of leaving the refuge and the paradise vacation in the middle of the woods, I couldn't stop smiling.

"No… I'm sitting in the back with you guys. There's no fucking way I'm going to be within a five foot radius of the Blonde Bitch of the North." Jason, with a baseball cap turned backwards on his head, glared ruthlessly at me.

"Fuck no." Troy cussed loudly, squeezing my hand that was laced in his in a silent promise that he would protect me from Jason's complaints. Rolling my eyes beside him, I kicked his ankle that was dangling off the trunk of Chad's SUV – where both of us were seated. Smirking slightly but not looking at me, he took the opportunity to curve his foot around mine and rub softly up and down my calf. A part of me – the section of my brain that I cursed – turned to mush. I tried not to show the effect he had on me; obviously, I failed.

I nuzzled my head against Troy's t-shirt, feeling a headache beginning to pulse on the bridge of my nose. The morning had been anything but relaxing – Taylor had been insistent about leaving the cabin cleaner than we had found it. Grumbles had been exchanged between bagels during breakfast at the thought of making the finishing touches to be sure that we were respectful to the Danforth's home. Chad had attempted to convince her that the house was as tidy as it possibly could be. She wasn't satisfied – therefore we ran around all morning to be sure that nothing would be left behind.

"Jason." I spoke and looked up at him after Troy kissed my forehead comfortingly, "We all have to do things we don't want to at some point in our lives. You'll be fine."

Jason huffed and sent daggers in our direction, "You two just want to fuck in the back seat."

"Yeah! We do! Now shut the fuck up." Troy hissed, making me finally smack the back of his head. His eyes widened, feigned pain, and whirled around to me, "Hey! I'm crippled over here!"

Despite the mockery of his words, a slight jolt of guilt rushed through me at the sight of the clean bandage on the side of his head.

There was a crunch of footsteps against the gravel, causing my to turn my head around from Troy's wound. Three figures, squinting through the sunlight, approached with a steady pace. I noticed Zeke stood between the ex-couple, though there was a slight easiness in their stance. After Troy's scare had originally brought all of us to fright, it seemed that Taylor and Chad had decided to place their priorities in order. They weren't exactly friends, but from what I could tell in front of the final bonfire the previous night, it seemed they had agreed to attempt to work in baby steps into rebuilding a foundation that they could stand on when we all hung out again during the course of the summer.

"What's Cross crying about?" Chad asked as they stopped before us. His arm curled around the top of the truck, leaning towards me with a sense of protectiveness.

"He wants to split Troy and I up because he doesn't want to smell Sharpay's perfume for more than a minute." I whined.

"No… I'm saving you from having to clean up Troy's cum in your back seat."

"Really?" Chad snorted and winked at me; I shoved his shoulder until he staggered.

"Jase, man… don't sweat it… I'll ride with the girls." Zeke offered kindly, smiling down at Taylor who beamed back at him. I could see the pure relief that spread over her face – dark skin against her white teeth. Obviously after The Incident, Taylor wanted nothing to do with the drama queen. However, she didn't have much of a choice in the vehicle arrangements: Troy refused to go anywhere without me after he had slept off his dizziness from the lake and was staying with Chad until he went back to Santa Fe. Troy pulled the "I have amnesia and can't get headaches or I'll die" card – which, I might add, was the most idiotic excuse I had ever heard – and managed to keep Blondie in the opposite SUV. Apparently, I owed him a blow job for thinking so quickly – or so he said.

"Where is the bitch anyways?" Troy furrowed his eyebrows and cranked his neck around the others, looking through the waves of heat that rose from the dirt paths.

On cue, a sudden shriek sliced through the air like a knife.

Immediately, we all jumped in fright. The echo ripped through the trunks of each tree. I practically toppled to the dirt floor in shock, but luckily, Troy had managed to catch my arm before disaster struck. I smiled in thanks before joining him in a stance to watch as the heiress – who somehow managed to wind up in the gravel, face down – struggle to find balance on her obnoxiously large suitcase. Judging by the fact she was a mere foot away from the steps, I assumed that she tripped whilst attempting to make her voyage to the cars.

"I _hate _this place!" Sharpay screamed. Conveniently, she was dressed in an all white outfit that appeared as though she was about to attend a Wimbledon match.

I smirked when I caught Troy's glance: karma's a bitch.

We all ignored her and turned to each other, realizing that it was time to end the vacation. Chad was first to move, placing one arm around my shoulders and the other around Zeke's. In synchronization, we all followed his lead, encircling each other until we were a giant ring – unbreakable.

Troy was cheating with me, of course, as I was with him. Our embraces were entwined at our hips; each was snuggling into the other without drawing attention. Nothing was said, but we all caught glances at each other, smiling when another had and gracing a higher power for such an incredible group of friends.

Eventually, we had to let go. Hugs were exchanged; tears pricked in our eyes. Of course, we would be seeing each other for the rest of the summer – September was a far ways away. But, despite the lies and arguments and mosquitoes, we were going to miss the escape from reality. Worries of the books and professors would come at another time; now was for mourning over our return.

I glanced once more at the cabin and smiled.

The reunion as Wildcats, including Troy, was one that had been –dare I say – unforgettable.

* * *

Everything was perfect.

Small water droplets collected on the burning surface of my skin, dancing upon the tiny blades of grass that cushioned my body as it lay in the bed of the earth. Above me, the stars – winking and twinkling – illuminated the night sky. The darkness around was comforting, kissed with a bluish haze that swirled evenly in the breeze. The air was warm – not quite scorching and not quite chilled. Silence, apart from the even chirp of crickets, was the soundtrack to bliss. Nothing could harm the bubble of the night – not a lie could stir chaos. Purity rang with the soft creek of a swing nearby – a child's innocence mixed with the gentle gargle of a stream hidden behind the emerald tree line.

It was exactly the same as it had been that first date we had all those years before.

And of course, the perfection of the atmosphere in the park that evening mattered not – the reason for flawlessness lied in the grass beside me, jean clad legs entwined with mine and holding me with devotion.

"Can I ask you something?" The voice of angles requested. Hypnotized by his tone, my head lifted from his chest and I looked into the sparkle of his eyes – far brighter than The Northern Star.

His fingers, previously rested on my hip, lifted and pushed back the ebony curls that spilled out across his chest. Far into ecstasy, I felt my heart evenly thump against his body. It took a long moment for me to process the words that hummed in my ear – the silence had been all so consuming that I had forgotten what written speech was. I was drugged off of love; off of the pure knowledge of being within the arms of the man that held my heart in his hands and – even after three years and a barren collection of memories – refused to let it go.

"I suppose." I responded, softly stroking the collar of his green t-shirt and brushed against his golden skin without apology, although he had been asking me questions about our previous life all night.

His lips were suddenly hovering over mine, mere centimeters before connecting, "Why does your dad hate me?"

Without hesitation, my hand slipped to the back of his neck and I stared deeply into his eyes, feeling waves of passion wash over me, "Because you own my heart." I whispered before I met his lips with a gentle caress.

The separation of three hours after Chad had dropped me off that evening had been unbearable. Of course, I was happy to see my family. My mother had eagerly sat beneath the canopy of my bed as I retold stories from the two weeks in my absence. She grinned brightly when Troy's name dropped –she had always been a fan of us. After I tossed my dirty laundry in the hamper and sat impatiently through a welcome home dinner, my phone had buzzed and my smile grew. Old habits apparently died hard: my father's glare returned when Troy knocked on my front door with his beaten up truck coughing in the driveway and a look of lust curled on his lips.

Our mouths were in no hurry when Troy rolled me ever so slightly so his hip pinned mine down. I was busy re-exploring his body for the umpteenth time since we had first been in that clearing just a few weeks before. Every time I assumed I had his entirety figured out, I would be pleasantly surprised to find another divot in his back or admire the way my palm curved perfectly against his peck – just above his heart. He was doing the same, though discovering me without a predisposition of my makeup. As his tongue flicked in and out of his mouth as it dragged over my neck, I realized it was filling the void of his brain with new memories, replacing the blank slate of our relationship with moments he would be able to retrieve when needed.

We were breathless when we surfaced from the depths of our kiss. As one, our chests were panting and pressing to the other. My hands were stroking the little hairs on the back of his neck, his were avoiding knocking the sunglasses perched on my head and trailed down my side.

"What is it?" I asked softly when his eyes fluttered to a close. The breeze teased the strands of hair falling into his thick eyelashes.

When his eyes flashed open again, bright and cyan, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"You're beautiful." He mumbled, twirling one of my curls around his finger. I grabbed his chin and pulled him down, connecting our lips in an intimate waltz.

"I love you." I whispered when we pulled away, staring up into the corners of his eyes so he could see the vitality of my statement.

A soft smile tugged at his lips, "I know," he responded, knowing that eventually he'd be able to repeat the words back to me when his consciousness felt the same, instead of relying on the undertone of his psyche.

His hands, careful and precise, ran from my thigh and through each bump of my rib. They passed the cushions of my breasts, not without a squeeze first, and then took my clavicle in his grasp. I felt vulnerable and electrocuted, anticipating his ambush on my mouth but never receiving it. Instead, he kissed my forehead and glanced towards the sky once again.

"I should get you back before your dad calls the police." He joked, arching his body in a pushup position and finding the strength to climb off of me.

I knew he was right; the long day of driving was beginning to make my eyes droop. With an offer of his hand, I sent him a longing look before slipping my fingers between his and allowing me to stand.

We were halfway across the baseball diamond that led to an abandoned playground when Troy suddenly stopped. His head snapped towards the bubbling stream.

I narrowed my eyes questioningly, "Troy? Come on, we parked by the swings-"

"Hang on," he mumbled incoherently, "I wanna see something."

He tugged on my hand, not bothering to wait for my approval of this task. There was suddenly a spark in his eyes, a hunger I had never seen before – new or old Troy. I stumbled away from the swings, struggling to keep my balance as his feet frantically stepped down into the grass. This sudden desperation frightened me when we made it to the thick of the trees, hiding the whispers of the stream as a secret. Small twigs poked and splintered against my bare feet, but I was too focused on Troy's persistency to notice. With the grace of an athlete, he skillfully pulled me through the thicket until I could see the black rush of water reflecting the shining stars from above.

"Troy?" I called again when he let go of my hand and took a step back, "Troy stop it! You're gonna get hurt!"

He was in a trance, and it scared me. Vigilantly, he tested the rocks with pressure on his foot. Deciding it was safe, he bounded until he was at the water's edge, staring into the waving reflection of him.

"Come here." He ordered passionately, never once looking at me but arching his arm back to offer his hand.

I crossed my arms stubbornly, "No… Troy we're trespassing. We're gonna get in trouble."

He didn't look at me, but the world around me suddenly shook when he whispered, "This place… I feel like…I've felt it before…"

My heart stopped beating.

I suddenly lost myself, feeling the earthquake of my heart shatter the world. Nothing seemed to be truth – black and white were no longer opposites and the stars were shining through the ground. Weeks became months, years became seconds. Time was suddenly lost to me; I wasn't quite sure if I was sixteen or nineteen anymore. It didn't matter – had it been either, I would have been more than content. But both – both had never been an option.

I don't know how I managed it, but I was suddenly at his side upon the rock. Without looking myself, I knew the mocha in my eyes was smoldering when I grabbed his shoulders and whirled him until he was finally gazing upon me with as much passion as I was.

"You _remember_?" I asked frantically. I cared not if he did, but the astonishment of this revelation left me breathless.

Swallowing thickly, though never faltering his stare, he shook his head, "Not a memory… I just…I _feel _it… I've been here before… I know I have…"

I threw my arms around his neck – that was good enough for me.

Around us, the stars burned brightly in the velvet night as the rest of the world faded into a forgein existence. Musical and enchanting, the bubbles from the creek floated between our skins, slick with love. Troy held me close to his body, connecting my existence to his as one. The wind twirled my hair around us, sheltering our arms from the outside world. I closed my eyes, feeling one single fleeting emotion rush around. Love surged through me, tickling my eyelashes and escaping my flesh to be absorbed through his. Though he may not have remembered, I knew he felt it too. And that was all that mattered.

Troy grabbed my face and kissed me with raw yearning. The sound of my giggle filled the dead of the night when he pulled me close. Drunk off his touch, I peered down into the tender trickled of the creek flowing below. With the moon illuminating the black sky, I noticed the shimmering reflection of us in the clarity of the water. It was crystal; crisp and pristine without a doubt of what was swimming at the bottom.

Smiling to myself, my foot kicked a glop of mud into the depths of the creek, fogging the perfection that lay within.

* * *

**A/N: I wish I could individually thank every single one of you for taking the time to read this story and really bringing it to life. To be perfectly honest, it was just sort of a whim that I decided to write it, but I'm really happy all of you gave it a chance. I know the updates were fast, but maybe that's what added to the magic of it. Seriously, thank you so much. Honestly, this was one of the saddest chapters I've ever had to write, so I really hope you enjoyed it and I hope you took away more than meets the eye of it. Thank you, so much for your support of this story.**

**Three years of consistent writing is a long time… and three years ago at this time, I was starting to write my very first story for Troy and Gabriella. Since then, I've really grown as a writer and a person, and I just want to thank every single one of you who has been with me for a long period of time. Because _you _guys are the ones who pushed me to be better. I'm not perfect, because there are so many authors on this site who can run circles around me, but I really have gotten a lot better in three years and that's all thanks to your support. I don't know if I'll come back and post anything more for High School Musical, but I will most definitely be reading and cheering the rest of the amazing authors on. Of course, nothing is ever set in stone, so if I settle into this new life and come up with a solid plot line, I won't hesitate to post it. I will always be writing, know that. It's is too important to me to give up – it's a bit of an addiction I'm not willing to let go of. **

**Good luck to all the other authors on this site, keep making me feel inferior – I know you will. Don't let the magic of Troy and Gabriella die. Thank you, to Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens for giving me inspiration. Without the sparkles in your eyes and the giggles slipped, there would be no Troy or Gabriella. I wish you luck in your careers and where ever life takes you. You'll always be the music in me.**

**Honestly, I have the best readers on this site – you guys have stuck with me no matter how much ridiculous shit I've thrown at you. Nothing I will ever say will express my gratitude for you guys. So just, thank you. Thank you for letting Troy take Gabriella to hell on a summer night and thank you for trusting me and allowing Gabriella's balcony doors to be unlocked on a stormy Christmas Eve. I owe you all so much more than I can express.**

**I'll be around cheering the rest of the authors on. If you ever need me, I'm always a PM away.**

**Thank you, for the opportunity you've given me. Keep rocking, I know you will.**

**xo runninequalslife **


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